LIBRARY OF CO^^GRESS. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 



ALMA 



^ILLE 



N 




Published for the Author by 

THE MERSHON COMPANY 

RAHWAY, N. J. 



■^ -/-. 



18 95 



-S=* 






Copyright, 1895, by Alma Gillen. 

All rights reserved. 



WHAT THE AUTHOR MEANS 



" He that hath ears to hear let hhn hear what the Spirit saith." 

If there are three elements, states, or conditions of a 
thing -one of tliose must be a first, one a second, and one a 
third, not greater or less, higher or lower, in value, simply 
a certain order in regard to position, thusly : 

' First, 

Second, 
Third. 

The law of expression is from tlie inner to the outer. 
Ine inner of what? 

Simply the inner of that outer at which we may be 
looking, and calling an " expression." 

That is the first axiom regarding the law of expression. 
Ihe next is, there must be at the very least two causes for 
any expression, and the third is, ih^i loithin the expression 
are the causes (two or an hundred million) for that ex- 
pression ; and still another point is, that one of those 
causes is the first, and is the cause for all and of all which 
comes after. 

A human being is an "expression," and hence, at the 
very least, a triune being. 

Applying the law of expression to him, we find that 
within himself are the causes for himself ; also that one of 
those causes is a first and the cause of, and for, all which 
comes after it, though all are equally interdependent one 
upon the other. 



iii 



IV 



WHAT THE AUTHOR MEANS 



Accepting tlie law of expression as a basis from which 
to reason, for the purpose of finding out something about 
the human expression, we will establish the trinity, or 
three in one, which man must be. 

We see a body standing before us which speaks. 



-Body (or speaking). 

If it speaks it must think, and the thinking must pre- 
cede the speaking (or the body). 

-Thought. 

-Body (or speaking). 

If thinking is being done there must be something to do 

the thinking, and that something or Thinker must take 

precedence of Its thought. 

-Til inker. 

-Til ought. 

-Body (or speaking). 

To give familiar names to that trinity in unity we have : 

Spirit first, 
Soul second, 
Body third, 
and in that order. 

These poems are all written from that standpoint. 

In some cases it is the soul addressing the Spirit ; again, 

the Spirit claiming allegiance of Its soul ; but in any case 

the fact of one (the first) of those three being a perfect 

and unchangeable something has been firmly held to, and 



WHAT THE AUTHOR MEANS T 

this is an effort to show forth what must be the result of 
knowing one's self to be that unchangeable ; that, " the 
peace which passeth understanding " is the result, and why. 

An intense happiness, a keen zest for all the enjoyments 
of life, a childlike trust and joyousness day by day, though 
thoroughly conscious of the responsibilities which follow 
upon knowing one's self to be a creator. 

An effort to prove that intemperance is curable, that 
social purity is not a dream, that vice, illness, misery, un- 
happiness, and poverty are not a necessity, only under 
certain conditions, and those conditions changeable, and 
how. 

An effort to show forth the dual nature of God (conse- 
quently man) — namely, Father-God, and Mother-God, and 
what a realization of that fact means for the one who feels 
it to he a fact. 

An effort to make a simple and easily understood ex- 
planation of the triune nature of God (consequently man). 

And above all to show plainl}^, and draw attention to a 
truth which we, as a religious people, are being taught 
continually — namely, the Omnipresence of God, which has 
but one logical conclusion, which must be that God (with 
all that God must mean of Love, Wisdom, and Power) 
is xoithin man, and to prove God to be only another word 
for Love, and Love but another name for God. 

That the reader may better follow or grasp the writer's 
meaning, a few words are necessary relating to the defini- 
tion of the word "mentality." 

In lecturing and teaching it was soon apparent that of 
those who believed they had a Soul a portion believed the 
Soul was that part of them which changed its condition, 
becoming better or worse ; another portion believed it to 
be the unchangeable part of them, which made it necessary 
to choose a word for the second cause which would mean 
to all men the same. 



VI 



WHAT THE AUTHOR MEAifS 



Another reason being an intense desire to help agnostics 
and atlieists, for having been an atheist for years the 
writer full}' appreciated tlie soul anguish when forced to 
face the fact which comes to man}^ that thej^ are sure of 
nothing, and though a man ma}^ refuse to believe tliat lie 
has a soul, no man refuses credence to the fact that he 
thinks and reasons, hence tlie following statement : 



Love, 
Thinker or spirit., -j Wisdom, 
Poicer. 



Mentality or soul, 
or second cause. 



Body. 



i^Man. 



Memory, 
Perception, 
Will power, 
Reason, 
Thought, 
Imagination, 
I Intellect. 

Head, 

Brains, 

Heart, nerves, and so forth. 



The body being so well known its parts need not be 
enumerated. Not only is that the order of Creation as re- 
gards 7i?^;/?rt?i beings, but it is the order and method in and 
by which the whole Universe was created ; the Universe 
taken as a whole or the atoms of that Universe, and the 
order and method in and by which creation is going on 
to-day and shall forever. It is the Lcm of God, is un- 
changeable, and cannot be broken. 

As the Thinker (whatever name is given It, God, Creator, 
First Cause, Principle, Life) must of a necessity \>q first \\\ 
position one must needs call himself, consider himself as 
the Thinker, with all the powers, possibilities, responsibili- 



WHAT THE AUTHOR MEANS Vll 

ties, and rewards attending such a position ; and as the 
Tiiinker is creating continually (creating thoughts), He 
will have as His portion in life according to the thoughts 
which He creates. 

A suggestion for a thought, excessively powerful, may 
be given to a person, but no power in the universe can 
make that person create his thoughts according to that 
suggestion unless he wishes to do so. 

May the same dear Love which was the cause of creation 
of these poems follow them, drawing to the soul of each 
reader the peace and power of Love. 

Alma Gillen. 

45 LoNGRiDGE Road, Earls Court, 
London, England. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 



THE TRUTH 

I HAVE a story I would tell, a song I long to sing, 

Tlie words are simple, music old ; but they are very true, 

And wondrous sweet tlie tune. 

One sees the longing eyes, 
Looks into faces sad, sees shoulders bent with care, 
Sees in the mouths the proof of hungr}^ hearts, 
And one's whole soul seems bound to leap and force the 

ties 
Which hold it fast, with longing great to tell the cure. 

You know 'tis very, very hard, when once you know the 

cure. 
To pass along with lips close locked, and speak no word 
To those who need it so. 

To know the cure to lie within that fleshly frame 
Which carries in its face that desperate, hungry, fearful tale. 
And know it can be changed, until that face will shine 

resplendent, 
In its own sweet power revealing, every second as it 

breathes. 
What Life does really mean. 

The cure ? 

To dig from out the inert mass called brain 
The thing of which it is a proof. 

The thing which has a place in what we call mankind ; 
A place which it must have and hold. 



2 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

That place is one which is its own, it must not, cannot 

abdicate : 
'Twould be a coward's act. 

That thing is Thought. 
Its place is one so full of power no words can fitly give it 

voice ; 
It proves the immortality of man ; it joins the Spirit to the 

flesh ; 
It speaks through brains of men to pi-ove what Spirit is. 

When hearts are acliing with their load of woe, we take 

them to the church ; 
For there alone is cure for unseen cares. 
What answer do the bearers get ? 

A man has let his reason rule until he sees no more a God : 

His life is full of deep distress, his soul is tortured, heart- 
strings torn : 

He turns to one who seems a friend, who seems to love 
him well. 

What is the answer to that call? 

A wife has lost the husband whom she loved 

Far more than aught in earth or heaven. 

He dies. She is undone. 

To live seems anguish that no Avords can paint ; 

Her days are sira})ly one long glare of noise, unrest, and 

pain. 
The night ! Ah, me ! the nights, when all is still. 
When there is not the first distractino- thins: 
To call her though. ts away from that most dreadful loss. 
She listens to tlie ticking of the clock 
Until a rage against the thing takes hold of her. 
How dare it keep its voice when his is gone. 
The dead insensate thing to dare to speak ! 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 3 

And tlien her tlionghts take awful shapes, make grewsome 

things, nnlioly things ; 
A God! A Father! faugh ! 
What dreadful trash to teach to human things, in which 

are hearts which ache ! 
And then she puts her hand upon her heart and feels its 

beat, 
And wonders how it can ; why stops it not? 
And tries to still its pulse. 

Tlie hour chimes forth. Not midnight yet ? Ah, me ! 
And so the nights pass on. 

She goes to those who are the leaders and the guides, 
To show to sad and lonely ones the w^ay 
To everlasting joys that are in store for all who live. 
What is the answer to that call ? 

A lovely woman, richly dressed, stood gazing in the fire 
Which sent its rays far back into the room so large and 

grand, 
And lighted in a fitful ray the handsome things about ; 
The silken hangings, easy couches, screens, the pictures on 

the walls, 
All proved an artist's guiding hand. 
From out the shadows came a man, so gay, so debonair, 
A fine physique, a handsome face, and one which women 

loved. 
He stood a moment at her side, then drew her to his heart ; 
" What is it, sweet ? What see you there ? 
Why, dear, don't look like that ! Your eyes are sad 

enough 
To haunt a man for weeks, their longing is so great ! " 
Then kissed her lips, her cheeks, and pressed her eyelids 

close 
With kisses, as he whispered low, 
" My love, my love, I love you so ! " 



4 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Slie pushed his arms away and stood alone again : 

" What see I there ? 

M^'self, a girl, upon the moors with life before me ; 

Fancies great filled all my thoughts, 

And longings most intense swept every fibre of m}'" soul. 

To be, to do, to dare, to live ! 

And here I stand to-night, a thing to spit upon." 

He tried to take her in his arms, she flung his hands aside. 
"Nay, touch me not!" "I love you, dear," he humbly 

said. 
" So say the}?- all, so said the first, 

And where is he to-night? The husband of a lonely wife. 
And I who trusted in that love, who thought 'twould 

never die. 
Am seeking yet a love which shall not change. 
While gone from me are hope and trust ; 
My longings for a noble life lie buried in the dust. 
Restore to me myself ; the girl who stood upon the moors, 
Who loved her God and trusted man. 
Can you do that with all your vaunted love for me ? 
Can all your wealth do that for me ? 
Oh, God ! to find these later years a dream, 
And I again the girl who looked with longing for the morn 
AVhich always brought me keener zest for life and hope ! 
Oh ! where is Love ? 
That Love I seek to-day ; a Love wdiich I can know will 

never change. 
It cannot be a myth, but 'tis too late, too late for me. 
My life in ruins lies, there's nothing now but death !" 

To one and all the answer comes, and that ? 

" To pray:' 

" To whom, to what ? " the man who has no faith replies. 

" To God." 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 5 

"To God? and what is God, and where ? 

There is no God that I can see," 

" But God is everywhere, and is tiie Father of us all." 

" Of all the hungr}^, starving crowds who fill the world 

to-day ? 
Of all the vice and crime, the woe and dire distress, 
Which reigns triumphant everywhere ? Pray ? Why, my 

friend. 
According to the table, unnumbered prayers ascend day 

after day ! 
Pray tell me, what's the end ?" 



The broken-hearted wife looks at the face 

Which has a pair of eyes, that look at her with cold and 

steady gaze : 
A voice which sounds so cold to that poor soul 
Who knows not where to turn for warmth 
To set the life-blood flowing once again. 



" My daughter, you must pray." 

" Will prayer bind up a broken heart, and set in tune 

again 
Tlie something tliere, which made my very feet respond 
With liglit and airy toucli to what it said, to what it 

sang ? 
The one who could do that is gone." 
" Pray, madam, to our God, and He will help you bear all 

loss. 
Will fill all voids." 

" But where is God ? 
Could you but show Him me, Pd pray to Him." 
" In all we see is proven what He is. Omnipotent" — 



6 PASSIOXATE PASSIONS 

" Omniscient, too ; then He must know that I can live no 

life, 
Can see no good, when all I loved has gone." 



And so it goes, da}'- after day. 
And men who long for Faith, for trust in God, 
Who really try to have the way made plain to them. 
Week after week attend some place to learn of God 
And come away unsatisfied, and why ? 



" I go no more," a man once said, " it is no use. 

I long for words of love I do not hear ; we're busy men. 

We have to earn our daily bread ; we want a creed, 

Religion, what you will, to go with us 

Into the busy haunts of men, where battles hard are fought 

To win a living foi* those dear." 

And so the war goes on — 
A bitter one, though now no blood is seen to flow. 
The dogmas of the days gone by try hard to hold their 

own. 
While science aims its blows upon the trembling mass. 



Why not reveal to man his powers so little understood : 
Reveal to him what thinking means ? 

Tell o'er and o'er again the simple fact that yet is wonder- 
ful. 
That, with his power to think, 
He has a grasp upon all glorious things. 
He thinks, therefore he is : 
He thmJcs, therefore he loves : 
He t/n7iJi-s, therefore he knows : 
He thinks, therefore he does. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 7 

Drag out from all the piled-up lumber of the past 
The old traditions, the old ideas crumbling fast. 
Hold up and tell the story o'er and o'er, 
Man thinks, man thinks, man thinks! 

For years the brain has held the place that Thought alone 

should have. 
A triune thing is man ; he is, he thinks, he speaks : 
And each must have his place ; 
No more confusion making wreck of noble lives, 
But keep them well defined, let order reign 
Where now there's nought but war. 
I am, 
I think, 
I speak. 

'Tis thus is man. 

And once upon that footing strong 
No power on earth can make that man 
A thing to sneer or spit upon. 
But firm upon his feet, his understanding clear, the way 

made plain. 
By which he changes what is poor or mean or 'gainst 
His own pure Self, he lives and rules, this triune thing ; 
The senses speak — ah, yes ! and every word 
But voices forth the glorious fact that man is free ! 
The Truth he knows ; his slavish days are o'er. 

Man never leaves his " think " behind, in house or train, 

Behind the counter, at the bar, before the judge. 

Or in the street, it always goes along with him — 

He never gets away from that. 

He needs no book to tell him that — 

He knoivs it well. 

So simple is that fact, he fails at first 

To see how much it means. 



8 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

He fails to see it is the unseen link 

Which makes the Life and Living one — 

He fails to see it is the soul through which the Spirit 

speaks — 
He fails to see the Jiiieness of that wondrous thing called 

Thought. 
He fails to see how swift a messenger he has to send 
To unknown lands, and bring him treasures rare — 
Forgets that, when his toilsome day is done, he sits and 

thinks 
And broods, and thinks on wrongs and woes and dreadful 

things. 
Instead of sending Thought away from care, from sorrow, 

vice, and crime, 
He puts her in those very things he longs to see removed ; 
The hours fly by, he sits and smokes and thinks — of what? 

That fact revealed (that thought thus multiplies), 

And by him used in daily life, 

While earning bread, and hearing taunts, and having cares. 

He sees his troubles melt away, like mist before the sun. 

And women learn that, standing in the confines of the 

home, 
From there the}^ wield a power upon the lives and acts of 

all, 
A power, too, which far transcends all others so far used. 
It is most exquisite in fineness and in touch. 
Its speed cannot be matched. 

All this it means to Think. 
Oh, glorious power ! to think this universal thing — 
This power which comes with Life ! 
And all the sad and sin-stained ones new hope now see 
Tfds life, this da}^, this very hour may })nt them once again 
In touch with all the beauty long deemed past. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

And once again they lice. 
And once again the life-blood in their veins 
Flows on with strength, a strength which vitalizes 
Every atom of the man — the unseen and the seen, 
The mental and the flesh ; and both harmonious 
Do their work in grand and godlike way. 



MOST GLORIOUS ONE 

Ah, Father, Lover, Husband, dear. 

How til robs my heart at thought of Thee, 

How all my being seems to fill with power. 

And lightest, sweetest force comes from my thoughts, 

These thoughts of Thee, most holy, perfect One, 

My Love, my God. 

How poor the words, how slow the speech 

Which lips can make to voice Thee — unseen, glorious One, 

Too much Thou art, I cannot find a fitting frame 

To put Thee in — I only breathe and tliink, and breathe 

again, 
Andi feel — feel all Thy power sweep o'er my heart. 
My soul, my every nerve, until each atom of the whole 
Seems full to bursting of that joy which loving Thee 
Does ever bring. 

And then, dear One, how longs my soul to sing, to praise, 

To chant aloud Thy pure and perfect Self — to try 

In some faint measure to give forth an image 

Of Thy grace, dear, loving Lord — what can be said, 

What done, to do Thee fitting praise — most glorious One, 

And yet most gentle, loving One ? Ah. Love, it cannot be 

Each one must taste Thy nature — feel Thy touch. 



10 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Each one must have his heai't-chords touched by love for 

Thee, 
Must know that deep within that very heart You lie 
So still because so tender, so intense, 

So certain of Thy power to wipe away the darkness brood- 
ing there. 
So certain tliat the music which Thou art, 
Can soothe all grief, can wipe away all tears. 
And fill that heart with joy, when once the discord 
Can be hushed, which keeps that music drowned 
(Though ever ringing there), which dear Love always is. 

We long for help, and moaning stretch and reach away, 

beyond — 
Imploring — praying, some small aid to bring us close to 

Thee, 
And after years of longing — moaning — sore distress, 
We drop our arms with breaking heart, and try no more, 
And sink, too faint to stand — and sink, to find 
That there Thou art, so close, so close, so sweet, so dear. 
In fact, our very heart Thou art — Most Glorious One. 

Then Thou must reign — King of Thine Own — I yield — 
I fight no more. No more I long — no more I roam, 
For now I know that Thou art mine and I am Thine — 
And may I never, never fail to feel that Thou art Love, 
True, pure, unselfish, lasting, ever near. 
Because Thou ar^. Most Glorious One. 



What words can tell that dearer Love, 
Or mightier Love, if so you choose to name 
A love so broad, so deep, so far above. 
Beyond all love yet felt — yet which all love is — 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 11 

A master passion swaying all our tliouglits and 

Filling us from bead to feet with longing great — desire 

keen 
To show to all what we have seen, 
To give to all such boundless joy — 
Such rest and peace that nothing can annoy. 

To live npon this earth — walk paths — sing songs — 

Do daily dole of work — meet friends — bear slights — 

See broken hearts, know all their pain, 

And never for one moment let wise Love depart — 

But, through seeming sadness and despair, 

Through greatest joy and sweetest love, 

See like a ray of sunshine bright. 

Hear like the song of night's sweet bird, 

Feel like the thrill of first love's joy. 

Through every thought — that Perfect Love. 

That Love which lives alway — all night, all day, 

Asleep, awake, 'tis here, 'tis there. 

In sky and air — to see and breathe — 

Did we but understand ! 

Ah, God ! so sweet, how little understood, 

So dreaded, while so good. Above our heads — 

Low at our feet — our Life — our All — 

Words fail the presence of that Love to show. 

The ever presence, never less and never more. 

The highest height — the lowest depth — 'tis there. 

In purest heart, in vilest heart it dwells. 

It moves, it makes to love — to breathe — 

And as each tiny cell of blood flows back and forth 

Carrying life with every throb, in every tiny path 

Love flows along — ah, words ! poor words ! 



12 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

An Imndred words could not express what one fond look 

Or toucli of hand — and so it is, the Greater 

And the less, 'tis ever so. 

The tongue, a thing to serve, can tell a tale 

As false as sweet, but when our being thrills 

With Love's sweet song from head to feet — 

Can there be doubt Can words be found 

To fitly paint that love ? 

Or power of one faint thrill of love convey 

To one who ne'er has known what love can do? 

Ah, love as whole — ah, power which blends 

So wisely too — all love as one, 

Tlie king upon the throne, the beggar sad and lone, 

In Afric's heat, and Polar snows, from east to west. 

From all the world about — the love within each heart 

Does blend into one perfect, everlasting, beauteous whole. 

'Tis there that Perfect Love is found; 

That purest love which lifts on high 

The heart which takes its beauty- in, and close within 

Tliat heart does fold tlie seed away, until it grows 

To flowering plant, and all around its odor flings. 

Which lives and never dies, and all our being thrills 

Witli joy no words can tell, 

With bliss too deep and sweet for an}^ tongue 

To give a voice — and so we look and look — and feel, 

And feeling — live — and living — love, 

And loving — understand. 

And when that Love is by us felt, to us made clear, 
Then every thing new meaning takes — 
And every broken heart — and lieart whose food 
Seems scarcest dole — and lives where food and 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 13 

Raiment are denied — and lives on beds of sickness passed, 
Or blind, or lame, or deaf, and all which go to form 
Tliat drink which soon or late all lives mnst taste, 
And ofttimes deeply drink — All these new meaning hath, 
No longer do we stand and cry with breaking heait 
Or bursting brain, " Why, God, toAy, dost Thou such 
Things allow ?" — and bitter grow, because we do not — 
Cannot understand. 

And death — that dreaded fate, so feared by all, 

Yet soon or late each living thing o'ertakes, 

Love clearer vision gives to all who live within 

The circle charmed, and tells us— shows ns 

What that Life does mean and is. 

The knowledge once obtained, all death so-called 

We see a glorious meaning has — and can no fear convey, 

And welcome as the sleep which close of day 

Brings to our tired eyes. 



THE PERFECT LOVE 

What bliss, my God, to sing of Thee, to speak of Thee, 
Or failing that, to think of Thee. 
For Love is dearer, God, than all within the world. 
Such peace, such joy, as Love bestows — it is not meet 
That any lack for what's so plentiful this whole world 

through. 
The Spirit and the Life should be in any heart. 

Oh, Happiness ! so little known, how can Thy name 

Or nature be explained — so faint — so shadowy — 

Yet, so intense, so real, so perfect, yet unseen, 

So strong — yet, has no name. 'Tis like the life itself, 

It lives within the soul of things, 

It ever lives, It cannot die. 



14 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

To hioio what Life or Death, or loving is — is Happiness ; 

To see the life of things is Happiness. 

To think of all the glorious forms which life takes on : 

Those which have been, those which we see, 

And those to come — all that means Happiness. 

To dwell in thought on all the things around about, 
And strive to see 'neath eveiy form, the formless, 
Perfect, boundless power of Love — to love ! 
Oh, God ! how throbs ni}^ heart for Tliee, this day, 
Mine own sweet God, my Love alwa3\ 

Lover, mother, children, friends, all, all Thou art to me, 

Tliou glorious One, no words can tell, no words 

In any smallest way reveal what Thou canst do — what 

give, 
Tliou glorious One. 

Why, Love, does that word "One" 

In any way, to any ear convey the boundlessness — 

How close to heart, the Life of it, that "One" does mean ? 

That close within each thought, that Love and Happiness 

abide. 
That as the air we breathe, we breathe in Thee, 
Tliat when the wnnd blows hard and cold, or soft, or sw^eet, 
Or when the clouds sliut out the sun, or wiien the rain 
Pours over all this earth, tlirough storm and cloud, 
And sunshine warm, that there Thou art ? 

Aye, more, that thej^ are Thee — to speak of Thee, 

To work for Tliee, Thy many, many thousand ways 

Of showing forth Thyself and Happiness, 

Til yself and Heaven Thy Home ? Oh, Life, my God ! 

I\Iy happy One, my Wisdom and my Power, 

Who lives in me eacli day and hour. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 15 

The music of the waters flowing past — the song of birds, 

The voice of man, all, all are Thee 

Thou formless Love — Intangible Power — Unspeakable 

Wisdom — 
Thou God, what bliss to be acquaint with Thee, 
Thou Happiness, to know Thou art within all things, and 

of all things 
The heart, or soul, or power, to love, to think, to breathe, 
To move — to be. 

'Tis bliss indeed ! no joy that comes from kiss of dearest one. 

No thrill from heart to heart, can give the sweetness 

And the bliss that knowing Thee imparts. 

From head to feet the answer's given " I am. Thou art." 

And that is Heaven — and bliss like. this 

No one can from us take — nor give. 

It comes from Thee alone, from knowing Thee, 
And loving Thee, from owning Thee 
The Power and the Cause, from First to Last — 
From Last to First — Thou God — Thou Love — 
Thou Life— Thou Endless One. 



WHAT ART THOU, GOD, AND WHERE?" 



What art Thou, God, and where? 

I longed with all my soul, my thought, my strength, 

For sight of God's dear face. 

To know His nature — where His place. 

Hark ! borne into my heart of soul I hear : 

" God a Spirit is and those who worship Him 

(And who could worship whom they could not know?) 

Must worship Him in Spirit and in Truth." 

Aye, God ! but Where art Thou, and where Thy home. 

Thy Heaven ? 



16 PASSIONATE PASSIOXS 

Again in answer to my earnest, longing soul 

Came this, " Our God, dear God is Love " — 

Also these words : " The Heavenly kingdom is within." 

Long I pondered. " God is Love " — 

" God is a Spirit ; those who worship Him 

Must worship Him in Love and Truth." 

With speed of lightning's flasli the meaning came — 

With bliss intense I felt within myself 

My Heaven was — and God. 

The bliss, the joy, the sweetness held me bound. 
I tried to speak it forth, my tongue no power had 
To voice the wondrous meaning of those simple words 
That " God is Love," but rapt, and smiling all content, 
Breathed forth, " Oh, God ! God, my God." 
With power and glory all my being thrilled 
In answer to the words — a master passion swept my heart, 
my soul. 

Long days I dwelt upon that mount, 
Drank deep of what I saw — what felt, 
Lived there and looked upon the starving, 
Wretched, longing crowd that thronged the vale below, 
And saw no more of chaos, no more vile and sinful ones, 
But Love the God, the King, which moved them all. 
And seeing God in every heart, what bliss was mine ! 
What pure content, what perfect happiness ! 

" Fight not, dear ones," I murmured low, 

" Some da}", you'll see your own." 

So days passed by, each one more sweet than that before; 

And feeling all God's power and wisdom vast, 

I longed to tell of what He was, and where, 

And on that mount, I gave my life, 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS H 

This form, all forms which I might liave, 
Unto His service sweet, and for reward 
Felt o'er and o'er from head to feet 
The bliss that lovers know. 

In spirit loved I Love — and this is what I heard : 

" Wilt thou be satisfied — no other lover know ? 

No clasp of little arms about thy neck ? " 

" Aye, Lord, Thou art enough ; no other lover 

Do I need with Thee beside, within, to clasp me close." 

Lo ! at my side, my lover stood — in fleshly guise. 

" My love," he cried, and clasped me in his arms, 

And kisses loving, sweet, and warm were pressed 

Upon my lips, my eyes, my cheeks. 

Oh, rarely sweet is love, to rest within 

Dear loving arras, to hear sweet loving words. 

I took his face between my hands and kissed it o'er and o'er, 
And smiled, and turned away content. He would not let 

me go, 
*' Ah, leave me not, my darling one, my sweet — I love thee 

true. 
Why from me go ? " and strained me to his heart. 
But right before my soul the words were plain to see, 
" God a Spirit is," I answered low. " Yea, my Lord, my 

God." 

And all the longing hearts, so sad and lone, 

Appeared before my thoughts. I felt again the rapture keen 

That loving Love imparts. Heard once again my vows of 

service given. 
" What seest thou, dear one," my lover said, 
*' Look in my ej^es, dear ; look at me." 
He whispered low, and burning kisses pressed upon my lips, 
I looked, I listened, felt all the sweetness loving means. 
3 



18 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

" Ah, this is God," I said unto my heart, and revelled in 

«iy joy— 

" 'Twas Love as whole, not love for one thou vowed to 

serve," 
In tones so sweet and clear I heard, and once again 
Tlie passion which had swept my soul for Love, I felt, 
And lover, friends, and home, all, all, as nothing seemed 
Compared to Love, the Power unseen — to Love as Wisdom 

keen, 
To Love as Love — oh, Heaven within — oh, lonely ones, 
To til ink of this ! 

So days and weeks passed swiftly by. 
Each day more happy than the last — as close within 
My lover's arms I la}^, drinking deep with every breath 
The Love I knew and felt was mine, was his, was God ; 
Drank deep of love for God. 

From being so full, so satisfied, I longed to see 
All lonely ones so fed, and tried to tell 
Tiiat God was Love and Love was God, 
And open wide the gates of Paradise. 

I longed, but could no more ; 

His grandeur, sweetness, nearness, shut my mouth ; 

I could not speak, I could hut feel 

And turn me to \\\\ lover true and tell Imn Love's sweet 

story old. 
But, yet I was not quite content, for lying there 
So blest in love and happiness, a sound was wafted to my 

ears 
Of sorrow, sin, and strife. I tried once more to voice 
My inner sight, and failed — and turned again to my dear 

love. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 19 

And as be clasped me in liis arras I tlianked niy God for 

giving me 
In form so plain to view the Love which Spirit is. 
Tliongh oft ray vow came back to rae, it always found me 
Without power of speech. 

At last, one glorious summer day they called me to my 

lover's side. 
" All, love, dear love," he whispered low, " come kiss rae, 

sweet ; 
I leave thee now — once tliou would'st go," and smiled — 
I took him in my arras and kissed that dear, loved face — 
And wept so sore — he spoke again': 

*' Think, love, what thou so oft hast said that God is Love 
And ever dwells within " — 
" I know it well, dear one, but you have grown so dear 

to rae." 

And as the hours passed, we conversed oft of God — 

Of Love, of Life and change. I told hira of ray days 

Upon the mount, ray vow to work for Love ; 

Of all ray failures — all ray heart's desire 

To prove our God, and sliow Him forth — 

To say in words so simple all could understand 

What Heaven meant, and God. 



'Twas night — my loved one's form was still. 

So still and cold — I spake his name, he answered not. 

But joy of joj^s ! my tongue was loosed, and in that room 

Beside my love, I poured my glory out. 

How fast they came ! those words I'd longed to speak. 

Now each da}^ brings its work to me: 
Some sick, sad soul who longs for rest. 



20 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

For love, for kindness or content. To one and all 

I speak in words wliich dear Love sends to me — 

This truth — that Heaven lies vnthin that beating heart. 

To know that God a Spirit is, not form ; 

That when we love, that Love is God, 

And seeing God so close at hand, cease longing for His 

Heaven 
C/yiseen — and own Him now and here. 
Live in His kingdom, all content, without a doubt, 
A fear of any thing, for He is b}^ 
For God is Love and God is wise — then Love is wise; 
Then let Love guide our every act — fill every thought 
For all we see and hear and feel — and all we tiiink about, 
Tlius proving God — thus finding Heaven. 

If friends are few — yet dear Love dwells within thy heart. 

If lovers false, yet Love as Spirit is thine own 

And dwells loithin thy heart 

And sweetness lends to every hour, surpassing all 

That thou hast dreamed about. 

All longings satisfy that heart can conjure up. 

Aye, Love is wise and strong — for God is Love — 

And Love is everywhere. 

That knowledge gained is Truth revealed. 

Is Heaven made plain — brought close — 

Aye, means in Heaven to dwell — and God to know. 

And those of us who lovers have, and home and friends. 

Oh, love them well, forgetting all save this : 

That in each heart is Love, and where we love 

We kindly act. That God is Love, and homage pay 

To Love wherever found, howe'er expressed. 

And thinking thus, believing thus, see envy, 

Hatred, and all kindred things, like scales 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 21 

Drop one by one, and God in all His beauty, grace, and 

power. 
His sweetness — stands revealed in every tree, 
In every flower, in sky and sea, in wind and rain. 
In sun and moon, in day and niglit, in heart and soul. 
Our Father, Mother, Lover, Friend, 
Is God — is Love, sweet Love, sweet God. 



I KNOW not where. 

Nor do I care. 

But somewhere in the world for me 

Are all the things 

Which- meaning brings 

To life, and gives me e^^es to see 

What lies beneath 

A thorny wreath. 

Oh, Love, I yield 

To Thee my field 

As well, as quickl}^ as I can ; 

Yet clings the past. 

Oft holds me fast, 

Wiien Thy dear face I long to scan, 

To know Thee well. 

Thy nature tell. 

One thing alone 

I freely own. 

And that ? Thy omnipresence dear, 

I hnow Thou art 

The very heart 

Of every thing afar or near. 

And on Thee lean. 

Oh, Love unsCien. 



22 FASSIONATE PASSIONS 

"THE TENDEREST LOYE" 

Why teach us God is far away, 
And Heaven a far-off place ? 
Wlieii God and Love are one alway 
And fill the air we breathe. 

That known and felt, our Heaven we've found. 
And found to be within 
This heart, when we its depths can sound. 
And read Love's stor^^ old. 

Dear Love, so old, yet new and sweet, 
How many shapes you take 
From first to last, yet each complete. 
But tenderest — in our heart. 

What words could tell, our dear Lord said, 
What deeds could do. He did, 
And in this earth His body laid 
To prove how near is God. 



On ! w^onderful, wonderful thoughts are these, 
Which bring to me such perfect ease, 
Which make me brother of the Son, 
And son of God, the Holy One. 

Thanks be to God for showing me 
What living means — what 'tis to Be. 
For showing me what thought can do ; 
Can kill the old, or make it new. 

Thanks be to God for showing me 
What loving means, what 'tis to see 
That Love and Life are simply one ; 
Like God the Father, God the Son. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 23 



W, 



Wonder of wonders ! Now I know 
How thinking makes our troubles gro 
Or takes tlie sting away from pain, 
Leaving us glad and whole again. 



What bliss is mine since now I know 
That thinking shapes the unshaped woe, 
Or voices forth the unvoiced song, 
That loving thought effaces wrong. 

God always was, will always be — 
I'm one with God, that fact I see ; 
Convinced of that, new thoughts are mine, 
Thoughts bright and sweet — no more I pine 

And long for things far out of reach ; 

My loving thoughts have healed the breach, 

For " God and I " are quite enougli 

To change my life — make smooth the rough. 

And now I try no chance to miss 
To give a form to unformed bliss. 
And thinking thus, dear Christ I see. 
For God and Christ are both in me. 



LIFE 



This life complex — what does it mean ? 
What am I now — what have I been ? 
This aching heart — this longing keen — 
What is the end ? 

Oh, God ! pray answer me. 



24 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

This something which I cannot see, 
This something which I seem to be, 
This sometliing that can not be me ? 
For I shall die. 

Oh, God ! pray answer me. 

From head to feet I feel its power, 
Beneath its lash I fairly cower ; 
Again it seems the greatest dower 
Bestowed on man ! 

Oh, God ! pray answer me. 

Year after year thus passed awaj^. 
Leaving me sadder day by day ; 
Till not the smallest sunny ray 
"Was left to me. 

Then dear God answered me. 

A wonderful Love was sent to me. 
Wider, deeper, than the sea ; 
A Love whicli proved to be tlie key 
To Life and Death. 

'Twas thus God answered me. 

Thus answered me — proved Love was Life ; 
Til us answered me — and ended strife. 
Now every hour with jo}^ is rife ; 
At last I am at rest. 

God answered me. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 25 



THE « ME " AND THE " NOT ME » 

" What is the fusing explanation and tie— what the relation be- 
tween the me, the human identity of understanding, emotions, 
spirits, etc., on the one side, with the not me; the whole of the 
material objective universe and laws, with what is behind tl.tni in 
time and space, on the other side ? "—Walt Whitman. 

I LOOK in my face ; I see what I am — 

I bridge all the distance which lieth between. 

Oh ! Myself — how glorious — what depths do I see ! 

How extensive the view — no limit is there, 

Full of worlds, each one crowded with Life — 

No beginning — no end — more and more is revealed. 

Where is it gone that kept us apart ? 

Where were my eyes — what doing so long — 

My ears, that they heard not Thy voice, oh, Myself ? 

Oh, Beautiful Self ! let me touch Thee, caress Thee — 

Let me lean on Thy breast, close, close to Thy heart 

Feeling each moment a wonderful power 

Drawing me — blending me — yea, infinitely more — 

Absorbing me, until we are one, 

And shore meetetli shore beneath the deep sea 

Which kept us apart. 

Oh, Myself ! which is Love, keep closer to me. 

Let me cling to Thee while this deep-sounding sea 

Murmurs and mutters — grows calm — is at rest. 

And shore meets with shore. 

Ah, me ! which is best — 

Over the heart of the sea, through the ether to meet, 

Or imder, beneath the deep waters to see face to face 

The circle complete ? 

Me and Myself, we are one evermore ; 



26 PASSIONA.TE PASSIONS 

No power can change it, forever we'll be 

The First and the Last — the Last and the First. 

Holding — upholding — transmuting 

Me into Myself — Myself into me. 

Forever, forever, the grand work goes on. 

Life becomes loving and Love becomes living : 

Love — we are Life, this Self and the me. 

We are one — we are Love, this me and Myself- 

We are one, loving lieth between. 



THE NEW SONG 

Oh ! wonderful is the new song 
That wipes away all wrong ! 

Most glorious is the new song 
That we to Love belong. 

Oh ! lovely is the new song, 
Which tells us we are Love, 

Delightful is the new song. 
Like that of cooing dove. 

Oh ! joyous is the new song. 

Which thrills through every nerve, 

Entrancing sweet the new song. 
That Love can never swerve. 



Oh ! who will sing this new song 
With earnest voice and true ? 

Oh ! who will prove this new song 
Is but the old made new. 



PASSIOXATE PASSIONS 27 

Oh ! sweet and homely new sono- 

Whose title is so old ; 
'Twas glorious as the old song, 

The half was never told. 

01) ! dearest, sweetest new song 

Which never knew a birth ; 
You are the well-known old song. 

We failed to see your worth. 

All hail ! all hail ! the old song 

Which makes anew this earth ; 
Makes one the old and new song,' 

Through thought, which gave it birth. 

Forever will this old song 

(So new and yet so old) 
Be called each day the new song; 

For Love can ne'er grow cold. 

Forever will this old song 

Be called each day the new. 
And clearer ring the new song. 

If we to Love are true. 



I WAS far, far from my dear one ; 
The time seemed long, 
All things seemed wrong. 
From morn till set of sun. 

I prayed with all my soul 

For just one sight 

By day or night 

Of Love ; the merest dole 



28 PASSIOXATE PASSIONS 

Would give me peace and rest. 

One night I dreamed, 

On Him I leaned, 

My head upon His breast ; 

His band caressed my face. 

" I'm waiting here, 

Be patient, dear, 

And work with trusting grace. 

"And, darling, one thing know, 

I love you, dear, 

Afar or near, 

I love you, love you so." 

I woke — my soul was stirred. 

I hear again 

The loving strain 

Which ran through every word. 



God, Thou perfect one. 

The sky, the sun — men — 

All living things, 

Both seen by eyes of flesh 

And eyes of soul — 

The life as well as living form. 

One perfect whole. 

And that is God. 

A threefold power which lives as man, 

Or sun, or tiny flower. 

And all the countless moving forms 

We term the Universe, 

Yet, is still tlie Cause, Creator, Mind, 

A God of Love to bless, not curse. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 29 

And God is not for us a power 
Until botli form and formless blend, 
As perfect whole takes shape 
Within oiir tliouirhts, 
'Tis there we see the glorious One, 
'Tis there the Perfect work is done. 
And failing such a cradle sweet 
The whole lies ruined at our feet. 



More patience, Lord, 
Dear Love, come near 
And peace aiford ; 
Make all tilings dear. 

The hurting w^ord — 
The unkind thought — 
The act wliich stirred— 
And mischief wrought. 

On all, let Love 
Its sunshine pour. 
And from above 
Throw wide the door 

Whicli stands between 
All life and form ; 
On wliich we lean, 
Through wildest storm 

Of raging thought 
And passion wild, 
And peace is brought, 
Sw^eet, undefiled. 



30 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Oh, my God, my Father, dear, 
Lead me on from day to day, 
Cleanse my heart from doubt and fear, 
For loving Thee hr'mgs faith in Thee. 

My unseen present, nearest One, 
Dearest, best, most loving Power, 
Bless me till my days are done, 
My soul, my heart, ray thoughts impress. 

Then unknown God ? Then unseen Love ? 
Unseen no more, no more unknown. 
For all around, within, above. 
But speaks of Love, and that is God. 

In my own heart, which has the power 
To love, my thoughts within my brain — 
All thoughts, all things, all da}^, each hour, 
Reveal Love o'er and o'er again. 

Let grand and noble thoughts take wing 
From out our hearts, and fill the air 
With Love and Truth, till every thing 
We meet, will love Thee more and more 

Because of us, because we are 
Gentle and kind, are strong and brave, 
Claim Thee for Guide, then, near and far. 
Our words, our acts shall image Thee. 



With Love within and Love without, 
Why do I ever have a doubt ? 
With Love in every thing about. 
Ah, Love ! lo/ti/ love I not ? 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 31. 

You bear me on. Just like a child 
I lean on Thee, tlirough storms so wild, 
I look — on me You've ever smiled. 
Oh, Love ! could I but love. 

And as Love bears me ever on, 
I listen for Thy faintest song. 
It reigns within me all daj^ long, 
My Love, I yield— I love. 

Oh ! who could tell such jo}^ as this, 
Ah ! who could voice such heavenly bliss. 
As comes from Thy sweet, loving kiss ; 
Yes, Love, my Love, I love. 

Wlio could ask for greater power 
Than Love within one every hour, 
Than tliis our glorious, dearest dower ; 
Yes, Love, at last I love. 

So now we're one, dear Love and I, 
I fear no storms so Love is by, 
And in Love's arms I ever lie ; 
Dear Love, how sweet to love ! 

And more, in tender air I bask. 
My work no longer is a task, 
Whate'er I want I freely ask 
And get, through loving Love. 



There is an unseen foe around 
Who never, never, never sleeps ; 
Through every inch of space he's found, 
And closest watch he keeps. 



32 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

What is be like ? most black and cokl, 
It freezes where he dwells, 
And makes to cower the strong and bold, 
Such horrible tales he tells ! 

Slimy and dirty is his trail — 

Leaves misery in his path, 

Makes hearts grow cold and cheeks grow pale, 

Makes peace give place to wrath. 

He makes an hundred thousand things 
(Himself the while unseen) 
To do his work, and hatred brings, 
To dim the vision keen. 

His name ? Two names he always bears. 
One, Hate — the other, Fear, 
To match the double face he wears. 
Behold him very near ! 

We hate or fear, we hate or fear. 
From morning until night. 
Tilings seen, miseen, afar or near, 
Till darkened grows our sight. 

And fear comes in — possession takes 
Of us, our very hearts. 
And with our thoughts sad havoc makes, 
Till hope and joy depart. 



My Love, one word to Thee. 
The morning cahn is over all, 
A new day dawns for Thee and me. 
And hope and joy are in my heart. 



PASSIOXATB PASSIONS 33 

I long to voice Thy power, 

To speak but once, perhaps. 

Of what a splendid, glorious dower 

Eiicli life is born possessed. 

So many see Thee not. 
Nor feel Thee, know Thy name, 
Until til rough battles bravely fought 
They find Thee, Helper, Friend. 

Or till Love comes witli magic touch 
And thrills their being tlirough, 
Can the}^ though faintly, see how much 
Is meant by " God is Love." 



What bliss to feel again the ocean's force and life, 

To hear the constant voices of the deep, 

To sit and watch the shadows gently creep, 

And know 'tis Love who rules and does not sleep. 

Dear Love, my own, my very own to keep. 

To whom I'm dear as is to husband cherished wife. 

No other one can take my place in that gi'eat heart, 

IVfother, Father, Fi-iend and Lover true ; 

The ocean seems to bring me near to You, 

Ail else is cast away, my heart made new, 

And thoughts, sweet, gentle as the morning dew 

Fill all my soul and cause the happy tears to start. 

Those Love-born tears have power to drive all pain away. 
Have magic power to show the other side 
Of sadness, sorrow, failure — throw open wide 
Tiie gates of Heaven — w^e enter — there abide ; 
Excluding thoughts of envy, hatred, pride, 
And ruling self, we stand in Love's eternal day. 
3 



34 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 



PRAISE DAY 

Let me sing one little word 
Of Thee, for Thee, and to Thee, Love, 
Of what fills all my heart this morn, 
And sings as blithely as a bird. 

No words can tell the rapture keen 
Which floods ray form from head to feet, 
Whicli permeates each tiny nerve 
Of all this complex body seen. 

Which floods each thought within, 
With sweetest peace, and love, and joy, 
Making life a heavenly thing, 
Quelling all of earth's sad din. 

Let '^ might is right" new meaning gain. 
And power, for Love is right. 
And Love is might, and both together 
Forces join, and in all hearts reign 

As One, a glorious One we know 

As spirit, true, invisible, and great, 

But far — let Love go free in every thought, 

Then see that Love is Spirit here below. 

No other thing unseen or seen, 
Has got the power which Love 
So sweet, unselfish, though unseen, 
Does wield o'er hearts and lives of men. 

Why seek another power with tliat so near. 
So all-pervading, omnipotent, and sweet. 
So swift to pay with generous gift 
Those faitliful ones we love, not fear. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 35 

I WALKED beneatli the trees one morn, 
Alone, at the rising of the sun. 
Oh, fair is the day when newly born; 
Another day had just begun ! 

From out the depths of my longing heart 
Came forth the old and bitter cry. 
So sad ! it makes the tear drops start : 
" Oh, what is God, and Avhat am I ? " 

I turned imploring toward the sun. 
With streaming eyes. I fell on my knees. 
" I ? I am Love, and we are one," 
Was softly breathed from out the trees. 

I walked along the beach one day, 
Alone, at the setting of the sun ; 
Slowly faded the light away ! 
'Twas night again, the day was done. 

Sweet was my peace — aye, more, divine, 
As over again there came to me : 
"I am my God's and God is mine," 
Came softly floating from over the sea. 



TO BEATRICE 

Be able to coat all things which meet you 
With the sweet Love which always forgives. 
Until they shine forth a proof of the power 
Which nothing can kill ! forever It lives : 
No beginning, no end, no life, nor a death. 
But always has been, forever will be, 
Tliis wonderful Love, which levels all things 
Which stand in its way. 



36 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

'Tis better to take It and go the same wa}^, 

Encouraged and aided throughout every day, 

Than try to withstand It, going opposite roads. 

Too lieavy ah-eady our wearisome loads, 

We look eagerl}^ around ; all are busy enough ! 

Their burden seems heavy, their pathway seems rough; 

So we plod wearih^ on with little of hope, 

But oceans of care, when a vision of beaut}^, 

A feeling of rest, appears to our gaze. 

Sweeps o'er our souls, and tiie music of Heaven 

Rings in our ears, calming all doubts. 

Stilling all fears. Wiience ? 

It came from within. Our thoughts were the keys. 



I WOULD not, if I could, forget 
The dear old past, it lingers yet, 
And on the "now" its seal has set, 
As Love — the old and new have met. 



II 



Beyond the wisdom of the seers, 
The power to dr^^ the saddest tears, 
Tiie same dear Love throughout the years, 
The Love of "then" and "now" appears. 



Ill 



Oh, Power-Love to be so sweet 
And wise enough to make complete 
The "old" and "new," in Love they meet, 
The Life, the Cause of each heart-beat. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 37 



IV 



Forever shall the Love-Power bring 
The old as new, and o'er it fling 
The magic of the mystic ring, 
The song which only Love can sing. 



THOUGHT'S POWER 

"My wealth is great — 'tis yours, if yon will give me 
Happiness ; I'm strong — can work, and will 
With absolute content, if you will give to me 
One little while of happiness." 

"Pray, sir, more simply speak, for all who walk 

Upon this earth desire happiness, but what would make 

Your brother glad, no power would mean to you. 

What would you have to make you say : ' Thank Heaven, 

This is to me the purest happiness ' ? 

" Think well, but once can speak." 
Without one moment's thought he spake : 
"Oh, give me back the world I saw when I was young. 
Give back to me the people full of Truth — 
Held honor fast, who loved, and for that Love 
Would die ; where falseness and deceit were not, 
But loyal hearts and true. A friend no empty name, 
But held within the simple word a something grand 
And sweet. To live in such a world would mean 
To me pure happiness." 

"Look, sir," and took him by the hand, " now tell me 
What you see ? " He looked, long gazed upon this lovely 

world, 
Saw people, trees, and flowers — saw sunshine over all ; 



38 passio:n'ate passions 

The people laughing, gay and bright, tall men, fair women, 

Children sweet — all these he saw, 

A charming picture made ; saw in their hearts, 

Saw love and kindness speaking forth to comrade, wife. 

Or child ; in every word saw cause of deeds, and saw that 

Love 
The prompter was. " Now look," the sibyl said. 
Again he looked, but what a change ! 

A twisted, howling, writhing mass, was that gay crowd. 

They pushed and jostled rude and coarse ; 

The birds were there, but sang no song ; the flowers 

Were tliere, but had no sou], no smell — so changed 

Tliat picture fair, he started back in horror 

And afright, heart-sick and sad. 

The sibyl smiled and pulled away her hand, 
Which, standing at his side, she'd laid 
Upon the window-frame. Again he looked : 
" Oh, God be thanked ! " he said, for there again 
The people walked, all gay and debonair. 

The children played, the flowers breathed sweetness 
On the air ; the birds sang songs, and sunshine over all. 
"My friend," he looked — within tlie hand upon the 
Window-frame was piece of wrinkled glass. 
Which, coming 'twixt the seer and the light, had changed 
The view. 

" Like that small piece of glass, my friend, 

Does change all things to jow ; so does your inner sight 

Become obscured by things which are untrue. 

Just what you fancied in your youth this dear old earth 

To be, just so it is, dear friend — and true Love, 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 39 

Pare and strong, is here. In 3'outh j-oii saw aright, 
In manhood wrong. In you the change. In you 
The warped and wrinkled tlionght which changes 
All around. You have a friend, he loves jow well. 
And tries his love to tell ; in many ways to j'ou express 
The love he bears for you. 

*' You set the twisted thonght upon his every act, 

And all he does, all saj's, becomes a poisoned thing to you. 

Sweet acts of love are turned around, and bitter, 

Hateful shape assume. And so it is in every thing, 

In all our walks of life : the love, the friends, 

The honor, all are there — are there to be enjoyed by him 

Who has the vision true and clean, to see 

What's there to see — for he who will w^ith willingness 

Wipe out of thought the stain which taints 

The whole of earth — change hate for Love ; 

" Change blame for praise, and for intolerance rank 
Take sweetest patience in ; no critic be, but 
Learn to look and find the good which must be there. 
And as Love enters in and hate the farther flies, 
You'll plainly see, with straightened, healthy thoughts, 
The visions of your youth again, and find that 
Earth is Heaven — Heaven is earth, and right within 
Your heart is found. 

*' Your money has no charms for me ; no, no ! it cannot be. 
I pray thee try to see the meaning of my words to-day. 
You know your heart, look well within ; clean all the 
Corners out. Spurn envy, hate, and pride. 
Throw wide the door, the moths destroy, and cobwebs 
Brush away ; give place to Love, Content, and Joy — 
And thus find happiness." 



40 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 



IN MIGHTY GOTHAM 

In mighty Gotham, within a stylish clubroom, sat 

Some twenty men, all rich (but one) — all handsome, all 

blase. 
They talked of Art, of Fame, of Wealth, and Love, 
The power of each discussed to happiness afford. 
Some said that money all things bought, including happi- 
ness, 
Otliers, again, most stoutly claimed that Fame meant hap- 
piness. 
And others spoke of Love, but as a fleeting thing 
Which money too could buy — and thus buy happiness. 

One man had little said — his face was handsome, manner 

kind, 
His form in keeping with his face — he listened close 
To all who spoke. The talk had narrowed down to three 
Who most emphatic were — in earnest seemed. 
Each one had held high place in courts, and all were 

trained 
Their own to hold in any wordy -war. 

"My friends," the silent one broke in, "you seem each one 
To lionestly believe tlie power of your different claims. 
Now, I am rich, as well you know, and here before you all 
I will this offer make : 

One hundred tliousand dollars will I give to him who can 
In any street, in any park, this night the largest crowd 

obtain 
And hold for two long hours— Wealth, Fame, and Love 
Tlie themes to dwell upon." ^ 

For full five minutes silence reigned — the only one 

In all the crowd who had a dearth of gold and silver too 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 41 

Spake slowly thus — " I am not clever, am not rich, 
Have never matched my wits with such as gifted are 
In speaking way — but poor I am, and fondly, madly love 
And would be wed — but though m}^ darling loves me true 
We dwell apart. My friend, I'll take your offer up 
For sake of her I love, and 'gainst these lawyers twain, 
Well trained and keen, if I may choose the first, 
That privilege do I ask ; my choice is — Love." 

" 'Tis done," they both, upstarting, cried, "but warning do 

we give. 
My friend full faith in Money has — in Fame as much 

have I. 
I'd sooner risk three times as much 
As let my lady lie forsaken and alone without a word 
To prove her worth." 
"I am content," the first one said — his handsome face 

aglow. 

The moon shone bright — 'twas summer night, and cool 

the breeze 
Came from the sea, the streets were filled with human 

forms, 
Some ga}^ some sad — a moving, shifting mass. 

Fame's champion, full of joy which laurels hardly won 

So surely give, launched forth in praises of his love. 

Told of the bliss which thrills one's heart when, after 

labor long. 
Fame crowns his efforts with success — what joy to stand 

a man 
In all things like his mates, and yet to feel, to know 
He holds loithin a power, 

A something which no wealth can give, nor friends, 
His own, his very own, 



42 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

To hear his name with praises loud 

Voiced by the busy throng ; to feel his work has touched 

The pulsing heart which beats in every form. 

Oh, sweet and rare — is Fame ! 

Exceeding clear and full of power the speaker's voice, 
The people stopped, attracted by the wondrous tones, 
Stopped — listened for a while, then onward moved. 
"Fame ! perhaps 'tis sweet for those who win 
The favor of the dame — but come along, poor devils such 

as we 
Know nought of Fame." 

Thus passed the crowd along and paused so little while 
That scarcely could one tell a stop they made. 

A voice of thunder had the man who spoke of Money's 

power, 
Loud rolled the tones upon the air, and drew the people 

close 
To hear what 'twas this man did say : 
"All hungry, poor, and lonely ones, come hither, list to 

me 
Until I tell you how to gain, and live, a life of happiness. 
With money in your hand — such joy will come to you 
That you've ne'er dreamed about. All things 'twill buy — 
Fame, Friends, and Love so sweet." 

And more he said, his rich voice rising high and clear, 

Compelling all who passed that way to stop. 

Awhile they stopped. 

The poor who listened there 

More bitter grew, as, with wondrous power of speech 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 43 

He drew such vivid pictures, fair and sweet, 
Of what tliat wealth wouhl do, and those who had 
The riches in their grasp — and only that, had passed 
Life's beauties by to gain their wealth — walked on. 

"Poor fool, he crazy is — one thing there is which money 
Cannot buy — full well I know, for Love and I went far 

apart 
The day I wedded Wealth ; and all I have I'd give this 

hour 
With never one regret, to feel within my heart 
One faintest throb of happiness, or feel a love was mine, 
For what I am, and not for what I'd give — poor fool — 
Aye, cursed fool to preach such poison rank to feed men's 

souls 
With longings fierce for such a worthless thing as 

wealth." 

Love's champion stepped upon the board. " Dear love, 
My little love, come to my heart, speak through my mouth 
To make Thy power known, for 'tis for Thee I take this 

stand. 
It is for Thee, dear Love as Love, and thee, my sweet, my 

dearest one." 
And thinking of that dear loved face, those eyes so true, 
Which oft had told their story old, and what that love 
Had done for him — how it had proved beyond a doubt 

that 
Life well worth the living was, when he had been so 

hopeless, 
Bitter — caring nought for life or death or aught beside. — 

As all these things before him came, he quite forgot 
That on the words which he should speak that night 
His fortune hung — and hers ; and minded but that one 
thing true 



44 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

What that dear Love had done — he sj^oke, and as the 

words 
From off liis lips came gently to the crowd, they 

stopped — 
They staj^ed — the crowd still larger grew and larger yet — 
Spell-bomid — with streaming eyes and melted hearts they 

stood. 

And as he spoke, new sweetness seemed to come and fill 

each word 
With meaning soft and clear — and this was all his 

theme — 
What Love could do, and stories told of lover true, 
Of sweetheart leal, who loved, though far apart ; who 

loved 
Till death did come between, and after death. 
How years long past when wars and strife held sway, 
Tlie lover, true to duty's call, before he left held close 
His mistress sweet, heart to heart and lips to lips, 

And how, wlien on the battle field he fell, his love so true 

No courage had to live her life without his love, 

And longing great so filled each thought that ere the year 

Had passed she too had died. 

And of the loves of these last days, how, deep within 

Each human heart a longing dwelt — and told (to prove its 

power) 
Where love was taken out of lives for j^ears, mayhap, 
At last came one who had the power to stir the depths 
Of that still heart — to rouse to acting power that love 
Which never dies — and roused, possession took of every 

thought, 
And King at last, led madly on those two — all ties, 
All others likes, all duties, left behind for love's sweet 

sake. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 45 

Again, the love our mothers have for sons so wild, 

That love whicli nothing kills, and to the last gives forth, 

Though never understood. He stopped — the crowd 

So still had been, that far away his words were heard, 

So 'fraid were tliey one word to lose, but now 

As 'twere one voice, they clieered both loud and long. 

" More ! more ! " tliey cried. " Go on, go on ! " 

Again he told how faithful wife through e\evy trial con- 
ceived, 
Through foul abuse and cruel neglect — still loves — 
And loves— and loves — with love undying, pure and 

sweet, 
Content to die to prove her love. Told how for love 
We'll dare tlie worst, for love we'll fight the world, 
And death no power has where love has place. 

Ah, many \vere the tales he told, so simple, sweet, and 

true 
Of love, still love, no other power but always love. 
And every heart within that throng did quiver and 

respond 
To every word he said. 

And when the clocks proclaimed the hour — 
Not tw^o, but three, lie'd held that mighty mass — 
As one — one heart, one soul. 
He then, in simplest words 

To fit the youngest listener there, told how that Love 
Which swayed all hearts lived always and for aye. 
To spur us on to higher light — to grander things, to purer 

lives. 

"And now, my friends, good-night," he gently said. 
And slowly went that crowd its wa}^, as loath to leave 
The place whence came such thoughts. 
When all were gone. 



46 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

And down he stepped, the sad-faced niillionnaire 

Came to his side. " No words can tell what you have done 

for me, 
"No money pay the debt to you I owe. Good-night, 
I'll see you soon," he said, and wrung his hand. "Good 

night," 
And yet he stayed. " If God there be, and He is Love, 
'Twas He who spoke through you this night — good- 
night," 
And v/ent. The other two no words could find to voice 

his praise — 
For they had come an hour before — but gladly yielded 
Him the palm — 'twas fairly won. 

One further word. Next day that sad-faced millionnaire— 

Sad-faced no more — 

But quick, alert, and bright of face — 

Walked quickly down a narrow street, the houses small 

But neat — so very small. Before a door he stood . 

Impatient — pulled the bell, and next within the tiny room 

He stood. A pure-faced girl was bending o'er a couch 

On which her mother ]a,y. What sight for loving eyes to 

see — 
What sound for loving ears ! 

" My love, my little love, pray come to me, your love 

I cannot live without. Oh, come to me, my sweet. 

Pray come to me — deny me not." And there, with arms 

outstretched — 
Love in his eyes and in his voice, her lover stands. 
"My darling, come," his dear voice said — and like 
A lonelv little bird, she crept within his arms. 
" Oh, dear one, what to me is wealth ! No power I own 
Save Love — and thee." 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 47 

"WHAT WONDER THAT HE WALKED UPON 
THE EARTH" 

What wonder tliat He walked upon the earth 

With face so thouglitful, so sedate ! 

To walk abroad among His kind and know, 

As the}^ in sorrow passed their days, 

Or lay on beds of sickness, 

That so much of joy around — 

Within those very bodies laid so low. 

Could e'er be found — 

'Twas ever present — undefiled by any taint — 

Unhurt by any loss. 

What wondeiaas He walked abroad 

Through thousands of those sad-eyed, 

Broken-hearted, sin-defiled, and hopeless ones, — 

And knew the cure so simple was, 

And could not make them understand, — 

Tliat He should wear a brow of care. 

Although Love's power had by Him proven been 

From first to last. 

His birth — no father, saving Love alone. 

His life — so wise ! although untaught by masters' rule, 

His teacher being Love alone. 

His cures, so wonderful ! All, every act of His, 

Did breathe of Love's dear power, wise and sweet. 

How hard He tried to tell those whom He loved so well 
What " God " did mean — told o'er and o'er 
The law of their Creator great. 

"Do ye not understand?" What can one say, what do to 
break 



48 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Tliat cloud which hangs about their liearts and closes from 

their view, 
With leaden touch, the many glories they might see — 
Touch — hear — did they but understand. 

When every bird upon the trees, 
When every fish beneath the waves, 
When evevy flower, every plant 
Tells plainly of God's presence dear, 
When every throb of human lieart 
Speaks out so loud and clear, 
And calls and claims its birtli right sweet, 
Despite all laws by men laid down, 
" Take from me love and 1 shall die, 
I cannot live without my love," 
Forever is the bitter cr^^ 
Ascending to the God above. 

Now, when once Love, which like the air 
Fills all the air, and life, and sound, 
Is else unseen ; when once, I say. 
Love took a sliape to show itself to all the world. 
To let all see what Love, if left to rule, could do — 
And lived among them — eating, drinking, 
Speaking, teaching, healing, proving by each act 
The truth of Life — of God — yet they, so blind, 
Did treat Him so. Oh, strange ! but true. 

How wakes the heart at last ; 

What is the thing which opens wide 

The door to let the angel in ? 

Is it a tone, a sound, a voice, a song ? 

What is it at the last which turns the darkness into light ; 

Which in a time so brief can change 

The whole wide world, and hearts as well ? 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 49 

Oh, mao'ic sweet — for that is Love ! 
Not love for one alone, but loving Love 
In love with Love — to see that Love is God — 
That God is Love. 

And when that truth becomes a part, 

Fills thouglit and soul and heart of us. 

Ah, then do we begin to live (no longer to exist, 

But live), to breathe that Love, to give It out, 

To look upon the simplest thing which moves, 

Aj^e, more, which is — and know its life is ours. 

To know that life is Love, 

That subtle something which the coldest heart 

Must own a power. That love when felt can sink 

The haughtiest pride. That love, which rules in time 

All hearts — and that for one alone, 

That love so strong which makes us long and moan and 

sigh. 
For which Ave willingly would die. 

How much is ours when we can see and feel that Love 

For ever in our hearts, can hold it there 

From which to feed from day to day. 

To have, as like a magic glass through which to view 

Each act we see — no matter what — 

To know Love never sleeps and never less 

Tlian truest wisdom is, and knowing — rest content 

Whate'er betide — what courage ours 

To work with hyqyy breath. 

But when we know the loay to work, 

'Tis work no longer, 

To simply love — to let Love guide 

Each thought and word — each act — and follow, 

Only follow where Love leads. 

Is that too much ? Can that be work ? 



50 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

'Tis bliss, 'tis rest, 'tis all things sweet 

To use these hands, this head, these feet, 

To show Love's way — and this it is to Live, 

To love ! All Love is sweet, all is divine, 

There is but one, there is no here, no there 

In Love, 'tis everywhere, and always just the same. 

So lead, dear Love, dear God, and I can surely follow. 



ONLY LOVE 

Only Love can calm these dreadful storms. 
Only Love can lull all fears to rest. 
Only Love can offer loving arms. 
Only Love can tell us what is best. 

With Love, no harsh or cutting words can wound, . 
With Love, each so-called loss now seems a gain, 
With Love, each discord takes a different sound, 
With Love, o'er saddening thoughts Ave calmly reign. 



There never was a time on earth 
When every being at its birth, 
But brought with it the bliss of pain, 
That it might seek its home again. 



Mat our days be one long joy 
From seeing with our eyes of soul. 
Which sight reveals the parts as whole. 
And floods our lives with wondrous light, 
To read each tiny part aright,^ 
And ever}^ day new powders reveal, 
To make anew — to help — to heal. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 61 

No longer servants of God, but sons, heirs through Christ." 

This life is sweet 
At Jesus\/ee^, 
'Tis bliss complete 
To be obedient 

Servants to a loving God. 

This life is grand 
When we stand 
Hand in Jiand 
With Jesus, 

Children of a God whose name is Love. 

This life is glorious, 
No thouglit censorious, 
O'er hate victorious. 
Heart to heart with Christ, 
Sons of God — of Love. 



Last night I dreamed dear God appeared 
And. swept awa}^ that whicli I feared. 
And when I woke He still held sway 
O'er all my thoughts throughout the day. 

And every thing which came to me. 
Through loving eyes I seemed to see : 
His eyes, which are so wise and true. 
His eyes, which change all that we view. 

Dear loving eyes which see below 
All discord, hate, heart-breaking woe. 
And see the love He planted there. 
The love which frees our lives from care. 



52 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

A love so sweet, so strangely sweet 
It lianiionizes, makes comi^lete 
Our lives, our very cares are dear, 
They cover Thee whom we revere. 



No matter what the trouble, what the care, 

There It is, forever there. 

Dearest, sweetest Love e'er known, 

Rapturous vision you have sliown, 

Visions of tlie things to be. 

Closer grasp of things we see. 

" Here " and "there " are wiped away 

In the light of Perfect Day — 

Perfect Love has made us one, 

The ages past, those not begun, 

'Tis there the millions are as one, 

'Tis there tlie lasting work is done. 



Forgiving One, my dearest One, sucli love as Thine 
Shed o'er one's life would make to shine the darkest lot. 
When on Thy love I tliink — how gentle, broad, and sweet — 
M}^ heart is like to break — so swells it at Thy grace. 

Forgiving — oh, my Love, forgiving ! What a word can 

mean ! 
Forgiving ! what to memor}^ comes witli that one word : 
Such blissful hours spent with Thee, alone with Thee, 
My lieart aglow, my soul on wings, such draughts of joy. 
Such happiness no other love could give. 

And yet I wandered far — so far from Thee — 
Faithless — and longed for earthly joys, for eartlily love. 
When all the earth possessed could never give to me 
One smallest, tiniest drop of bliss such as was mine, 
When I was true to Thee, my Lord, my Master, Lover, Guide. 



PASSIOXATE PASSIONS 53 

And Love so sweet — my tears fall fast when on Thy face 

I gaze, 
When in Thy love I rest and think, and think of Thy pure 

love for me — 
For all — such healing love, such perfect love, 
It every craving fills, and leaves no smallest room for care. 

Nothing I ask — but only this — more faith to taste the 

bliss 
Again, and yet again — to deeper drink of that sweet Love 
Which breathes v/ith me and giveth life. 
To never doubt, to never long — forgetting never 
Love unseen, so true, such matchless Love. 

For weeks I've faithless been. Love's face I could not see, 
I would not look, I would not lean upon my Love — and 

yet 
He's ever been close at my side, aye, right within my 

heart. 
For when in thought I sought my Love, at once my heart 

was warmed. 
No questions asked, no blame was given. 
But close embrace — my lot was Heaven. 

Oh, Love, so sweet ! pray guide my hand — breathe forth 

the words 
Which can some likeness prove of Thee. 

The mother who for twenty years a light within tlie win- 
dow placed, 

For fear her son so wandering, aye, so bad. 

Should in the night return, and feel alone — 

The wife who waited thirty years for him 

Who left her lone and poor, who, when he came decrepit, 
lame, 



54 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

And almost blind — a shadow of the man wlio thirty years 

before 
Had sailed away so gay, so debonair. 
Slie met him at the door, and on liis neck she fell, 
And pressed liim to lier lieart, while tears, glad tears 
At sight of him, w\ashed all the years away. 

Such love but feeble image proves of Greater Love. 

It seems a story old, I've heard it oft, and felt no jo}^ 

But now my heart seems like to break in ecstasy sublime, 

In longing keen for words which would convey, 

Make plain, sucli perfect Love and joj^ 

Sucli glorious Heaven which knows no stint — 

No favor gives to one and not to all, but is the right of 

each — 
No high — no low — no rich — no poor. 



" IF THOUGHT WILL SEE BENEATH THE FORM" 

If thought will see beneath the form 
Of all that's vile, 'neath passioii's storm, 
If thought will patient, loving be, 
With ej^es of flesh we then shall see 

That none so low but Love is there. 
That none so weak, or full of care, 
But has the power to change that state 
To what he would — nor longer wait 

With heavj^, weary, breaking heart. 
For parents' evils to depart. 
But with the magic power of thought. 
Wipe out the curse ancestry brought ; 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 65 

Hereditary law tear down, 

Seize, liold, and wear the crown 

Of Godliead, Love, and Power so wise. 

It blends the earth, the air, the skies 

Into one grand harmonious whole, 
Tlie body, thoughts, the mind, the soul 
Of man and God no more apart 
When Love its secret doth impart : 

Eternal joy. Eternal peace. 
Which every moment doth increase, 
If thought do well her part in this 
Grand plan of everlasting bliss. 



THE OLD, OLD STORY 

No wonder that the Buddhist feels no power a name to 

give 
That glorious unseen One. 
To know that every thing on which we gaze. 
That every odor through the air — that every fruit — 
Each little worm — all life — all men — all things 
In all the world, on all the world, or round the world, 
That which we see, and that so fine our eyes refuse 
To further duty do — that which we hear of music 
Soft and sweet, or that which, although softer still. 
And sweeter too — we do not hear. 
Our ears no power have to grasp and make their own 
That music ringing there — all these are not for us, until 

we use the key 
Which opens wide all doors to every sense, and 
Which to every man is given — and with him comes. 



56 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

No one so lowly born but brings his ke}^, 

Which, while his breath within him lives, 

No power can take avva3\ Until he prostrate, 

Breathless lies — it still is there. 

And when the keynote has been struck 

And he becomes a ringing sound — no longer dull, 

And lacking voice — in all this melody so sweet — 

All, then his ears do hear — his eyes reveal 

All beaut}^ here of sight and sound, 

And, heart being touched gives out again the music there. 

And as it hears and sees and feels 

The mighty throb of all the music rare — 

Of all the hearts that have poured forth 

The music held within, until the air 

Is one vast organ grand, which gives 

The music forth from morn till night and morn again — 

This eartli for him is changed. 

Tliat mighty organ has for its ke^^s all things around ; 

If some are out of tune, or for some cause — 

No matter what — fail to join the song which ever rings 

So deep and clear — it does not stop the song. Oli, no ! 

Thou unseen One — how plain to view Thou dost appear, 

How loud Tliy voice, how sweet Thy breath. 

There must a way be given Thy nature to reveal. 

When eyes are feasting 

On Thy mj^'iad forms of beauty rare, this grand old world 

With flowers and fruits, and valleys with grand hills 

about. 
Or rivers with their living freight, or oceans vast, 
Or stars or suns, e'en time would not suffice 
Thy numerous names to voice. 

Then why not have one word or two — perhaps a third — 
Or in one word combine the three, 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 57 

In such a word as shall convey to all who hear, 
An understanding of Thyself — a word which shall 
To all alike one meaning have, for some who live 
Have been denied an insight into books — no learning 
have. 

In all this world of thousands — aye, of millions 

Living, thinking, breathing men, what is it, which 

In one and all exists ? what word which to them all one 

meaning has? 
"What word when voiced, what thought being given. 
One story tells? What is it which, since heart of man 

e'er was. 
Has been the power which holds in one unbroken ring 
All hearts, all lives, and lives to-day 
The power before which all things fall, the power which 

makes 
The hardest, proudest heart bow low and own its king ? 

Then, if there be a word such meaning has, already known 
And by us used ; if such a word there be, why further 

seek ? 
Should we not wisdom show to deeper knowledge gain 
Of that one word — that power so great 
No words can fitly tell its tale — 
Until it rises in its strength within a heart ? 

Then as we view the ruined homes where Love 

(So called) has entered in, unseen by any eye. 

And takes its place — lives — rules, 

Triumphant rides o'er every tie — and takes its own, 

Although a dozen lives it leaves behind, 

All crushed and drear — we turn witli loathing from that 

power. 
That power unseen — and is that Love ? 
Aye, that is Love, 



58 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

One form of that sweet formless One, but as a lark 
Has sweeter voice than croaking frog, so Love 
Has sweeter, nobler form, which oft it takes ; 
Tliat form which, asking nothing for itself, 
But seeks to give from what it hath 
To all who dwell its power within. 

Such love means perfect happiness, for it does mean 

content. 
And peace, and jo}^ — not rest which laz}^ sits. 
But jo}^ which finds its rest in giving sliape 
To what it sees of that dear Power, and day by day 
Makes more and more for that true Love, 
Sings nobler songs — and lets the voice speak soft and low. 
And ever}^ look some comfort give — a picture make 
Of what that Power can do. 

Oil, Love, supreme — for ever here, to fill our hearts 
With sweetest peace, 'tis power and wisdom, joy and rest, 
'Tis life and death — 'tis all — One name — and that is 

Love. 
Forget that you e'er knew a power which was not sweet, 
If any word that Power conveyed a meaning liard and 

stern. 
It was not just— tliat Power was most unfairl}^ robbed 
Of just one-third of Its great self. 

Forget whate'er brought to j^our soul 

What left the beauty and tlie sweetness of that Power 

afar. 
Oh, bring it close — close — close to ^^our hearts. 
Feel its beauty, as with mighty power 
It holds its own within your hearts — as love of wife — 
Or little child — husband dear — or motlier true — 
Whatever to j^ou seemeth dear — then tliat is Love ; 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 59 

That is the Power which never did beginning know — 
But always was, and is — no ending hath. 
But know it well, be not content with one faint glimpse 
And then forget — let not the lust for wealth or ])ower, 
Or fame, or any thing^ creep in and crowd j^our hearts. 

For Love, pure Love does ever give — it nothing wants. 

From out Its glorious depths all things have come ; 

No further seek, the truth is here 

Within your heart, its very life — now say again 

With thoughtful heart the plirase we've heard so oft. 

Does it no meaniiio- o-ive, as throus^h our heart 

The music soft rings out its song of Love, 

Till all around, below, above — sings out in voices clear 

The old, old song, to all hearts dear, 

The song so true that God is Love ? 



We oft have thought, perhaps oft said, if we could have 
The love of one heart true, to go with us our life to cheer, 
'Twas all we'd ask — we should most happy be, and full 

content. 
If one heart's love such power has to warm, to comfort, 

and to dare, 
What can be said, what must be said, to meaning give 
Those old familiar words ? 



If God is Love and fills the world, our hearts as well 
(For they within the world do dwell and of it form a 

part) 
By Him are filled — we live in Love, by dear Love breathe. 
No friend or lover do we need to give us Love 
So filled are we with Love. 
Each tiniest drop of blood within our veins its story tells, 



60 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

" Lo, am I here " — and as it travels back and forth 

Its one song sings. 

Each breath which comes and goes forever sings 

Tlie same old song so sweet — " Lo, I am here — " 

We live and breathe, we think and love, 

And still are blind to " God is Love." 

No power of tongue could plainer frame the thought. 
Or words more fully state a fact — it does not stand 
In such a way that one faint doubt could creep within 
The words, but simply does the statement make 
Emphatic and complete — now listen w^ell, upon it dwell, 
And say it o'er and o'er — The God, who all things made — 
The God who is your life and mine, the God who has 
Another name, yet still remains the same, 
That God is Love. 

And Love so perfect, so complete, it nothing wants, 
Except to prove what Love can do — Ah, Love, Lord, 

King, 
Thou Ruler great, my life is Thine — and Thou art mine. 
And death is not — for God is Love. 
Is there no way to clear our eyes of what is dwelling 

there. 
Which dims them that they cannot read aright 
A fact so plainly writ ? The teacher ever dwells within 
And day by day, aye, hour by hour, it tells us o'er and 

o'er 
In every throb of heart, that Love is King, and God is 

Love. 

From child to man one feeling alioays leads. 
One power moves in all we do. 

For those we love with all our hearts the very earth we'd 
move, 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 61 

Aye, more — all things give up which living means, 
Tiiat beautify our days, and gladly give our life and soul. 
Our earth and heaven, to give one little joy to those we 
loved ! 

Then, listen to the smaller notes — the little words 

Clean out, keep free our hearts from every thought of 

hate 
To any thing we see — or e'en do think about. 
As hate departs — (as 'tis the cloud which dims our eyes) — 
Then Love shines forth in all Its glorious power. 
And "God is Love "rings loud and clear, in heart and 

soul, 
In earth and sky, its sweetness tells in tones so gentle, 
Kind and true — and glad we are to love all things. 

Love dwells within, and like a note of nightingale, 

From morning until niglit the dear song rings, 

" I love my God with all my heart, my soul, my strength, 

I know Him well, His face is plain to me, 

I see it everywhere — in all my friends, in all who pass 

along." 
And easy then becomes the task, aye more, a pleasure 'tis 
To "love thy neighbor as tliyself," — such Love 
'Tis joy to feel — no words can half Its sweetness tell. 
For Wise it is, and by Its power we see and know 
And feel the meaning of those words so old. 
And say them o'er and o'er again — " Our God, sweet God 

is Love." 



62 passio:n"ate passions 



THE WOOING OF THE SOUL 

In this the " liege " represents spirit and the " wife " the mentality. 
The child represents the thoughts or line of thinking which are not true 
to Spirit or Love ; thoughts of fear, hate, doubt, etc. The character 
could as easily have been reversed. 

Long years I'd tried to be unto my liege most true, 

And oft had failed ; 

So oft that hours of bitterest grief and self-reproach were 

mine. 
My lover never spoke one word that could be turned to 

blame of me, 
But w^as so true, so tender, and so sweet, whene'er I came 

again, 
E'en though 'twas days that I had left his side. 

Oil, Lover, true ! oh. Lover, dear ! for Thee it seems that I 

could die, 
And yet I do not with Thee always stay, 
My thotight takes liold of other loves, and carries us apart. 
And keeps me tied until ray brain has worked her will, 
And then my very heart will ache to see the children of 

that 
Union taking shape — 

Sliape so unlike my Perfect Love, and I do love Him so 
One thought of Him will cause the tears to start, 
So dear He is to me. 

How can I help w^hen He so tender is — so full of power 

and so wise, 
Yet unto me — no matter what my faults — is always just 

the same, 
Foro-ivinof Lover dear. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 63 

And when my tliougbt, the fickle thing, had done with me — 
Had set me free, I turned again unto my Love, asliamed 

and worn. 
Beliold ! like brightest sun His face with love was all 

aflame, 
And once again I fell into those outstretched, loving arms, 
So glad to rest my head upon that faithful breast. 

And He would whisper in my soul words entrancing sweet. 

And soothe my troubled heart, and never blame. 

My Perfect Love, what is there like to Thee ? I will be 

true — 
I will be true — 

But there — I've often vowed the same — I'll change it — say, 
*' I'll try "—most humbly do I say, ''I'll try." 

But how I loved Him ! Long hours I'd lie within His 

arms. 
Content if I could only near Him be — content to draw His 

face 
To mine — to feel His kiss upon my lips at times — 
Long clinging kisses, when it seemed 
That all the heavenly bliss e'er dreamed about was mine. 
Again He'd look into my ej^es with His so full of love. 
And as He gently smoothed my hair — would murmur 

words like these, 
" You love me, little one ? " 

And I would press His lips, as all my being thrilled 
In answer to His words. 

More tender yet His voice became, and this is what I 

heard — 
" When can I call you all my own — how long till I can 

claim 
The right to every thought of thine— till thou art wholly 



mine r 



?" 



64 passio:n'ate passions 

Oh, God ! 'tis only those who have most trul3^ loved can 

know 
What passion swept my heart — how every fibre — every 

nerve 
Responded to that call — and like the harp the wind does 

play upon 
Each string its answer gives — 'twas so did I. 
And throwing both my arms around His neck, I closer 

crept, 
I could not speak — could only yield. 

And as He pressed His lips to mine 

I knew at last what loving means : To give — 'tis not to 

take — 
But give. 

To yield up all thou hast or art. 
He gave me Love — I gave — myself. 

For one brief space I seemed a creature new — 

The old had passed away with all its cares — its sorrows 

And reproofs, and I — 

" At last, ah, little one, at last ! " 

And all about breathed out the song of love. 

And then — my Love, how can I tell what came ? 

Just when His faithful, tender love had reached, and almost 

gained 
Its just reward — when every thought of mine seemed 

His— 
His very own — behold ! between us came — 
A child of mine, whose father was not Love. 

I started back — looked in my lover's eyes, 

Reached out imploring arms. 

He shook His head — " Not yet ? " 

His voice was sad and firm, thouo^h full of love. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 65 

Sobbing — broken, wretched weakling that I was — 

I took my child, and turned away. My lover spoke : 

" Dearest one, I'll wait until you come again, as come you 

will. 
You must — most patiently, most lovingly I'll wait — but 

come alone, 
'Tis all I ask — leave all the past behind." 
" Can I not stay ? " I pleaded, 
" And the child ? " 

I looked upon its little face, so twisted, so deformed, 

So sullen, dark, and full of hate — then looked upon that 

form 
Whence only love and lovely things came forth — that 

face 
So grand and wise — and yet so gentle in Its strength, 
I looked — and — turned away without a word. 

"I were not worthy of your every thought, my little one, 
If I could bid you leave unfinished work. That child you 

see, 
Is no wise fit, with such a shape, to make its home 
Where beauty only dwells, but when you've changed 
And moulded o'er that little one of thine, 
You will be free to come to me once more. 
Oh, loved one, haste — I long for thee." 

Once more I would have touched His lips, 

The child crept in between with gloomy visage, hideous 

thing ! 
" You see," my darling sadly said, " it is no use." 

What misery filled my heart, how agonized my thoughts I 
And all the blame was mine. 
" Pray let me be Thy wife," I faintly said. 
5 



66 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

" True love is love most pure. Can I, being Perfect Love, 
Be first to break that law ; the first to take as wife 
The one who to another owes her thoughts — of which 
Behold tlie proof ? 
Discharge these duties first." 

" Oh, must I go, and all alone ? " I sobbed. 

" Alone ? Why, dearest one, what meanest thou ? 

Am I not ever at thy side ? " 

" It grows so dark," I cried, " I cannot see," and groped 

about. 
My hands clasped little hands — the child — 
I staggered on, still moaning in mj^ pain : " My Love, my 

Love ! 
I love Thee so — why must I ever fail ? wh}^ do I ever seek 
Witli other loves to stay, and think to be content ? " 

Thus on we went, my child and L 

A light began to shed its raj^s around our feet 

To show us where to walk, what means to mould my child 

anew. 
And patiently each day I work, each day some difference 

can I see. 
The little face is filling, rounding out. 
Its e^'-es are growing wondrous sweet, and, often as they 

look at me, 
I seem to see a little gleam which brings my Lover close 

to me. 

The gloom which hung around the tiny form, and wrapped 

it close 
And tight, is falling off, and through the rifts I see 
A shining light whicli cheers me on, because I know full 

well 
The story that it tells. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 67 

And round tbe little nioutb, so pinched, so hard, 
So bitter too at times — I see a smile begin to play — 
It comes and goes, but ever leaves a softer touch — 
And e'en his voice takes on a tone which draws me back 
To that blest hour when Love and I stood side by side, 
Heart pressed to heart. 

And when I work, I can most patient be, for though I see 

Him not, 
I hnoto my Love is at my side, and helping me — and waits 

and waits 
Most lovingly for me. 

And if I weary grow, a thought is sent to me, 
A thought of what a joy was mine for one sweet while, 
It helps me on, and soon I know we'll meet again — no 

shade between, 
No thoughts which will refuse Him place, 
My Love and I. 

And at the thought I almost faint with happiness. 

And longing, too, at times — to be again within those arms 

So strong and tender in their clasp. 

To feel His kisses on my lips, and know 

That I am really His true wife — to give to Him that love 

Which fills my very soul with bliss. 



UNSATISFIED 

All up and down the streets the mob was seen 
Angry and wild, with murder in their hearts. 
White faces, hard and stern, '* We must have bread ! " 
The cry flew fast and fierce, " We must liave bread ! " 
For answer to tliat hungry cry, the soldiers, trained 
And trim, came with their ball and shot. 



68 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Fair symbol that of human hearts 

Which up and down life's pathway go. 

" Oh, give me peace, and give me love, 

'Tis rest I wish, and Avhat sliall ease 

This longing great, which eats my life away ; 

This something close within my heart, 

Which never dies, and ever calls and mourns and longs 

For something which will satisfy." 

I try with this — now that — but ever, as I tr^^, 
It moans like lonely babe or starving child, 
Until the cries so wear my heart 
That I should like to die. 



" Unsatisfied — unsatisfied," be still ! 

AVhat would'st thou have, thou deathless, hungry thing, 
Wiiich, caged within my heart, forever calls, 
Forever moans, " Unsatisfied, unsatisfied ! " 

So tliose who hold those hungry hearts 

Go up and down this earth with longing eyes. 

And sad, sad tones ring loud through all they say, 

And when they can no longer bear in silence 

All their woe, and ask — imploring for some aid — 

Learned men, like soldiers neat. 

Give out to them, what shall their hunger satisfy. 

Vain hope ! 

Not all the learning ever held in human form 
Can comfort give those longing ones. 
It cannot be, for learning has its bounds, 
While that which cries so j^iteously 
Is deathless, endless, everlasting love. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 69 

Not all the learning in the world 
One slightest meaning holds, nor can it give 
What one sweet word in love's sweet tones 
Has power to do. 

It soothes, it fills with joy that longing heart, 
Makes grow and blossom all that's there, 
And — God be thanked — it satisfies. 
Be loving, kind, and true, and so be wise. 

Let learning go away until another day. 
Until dear Love her wisdom shows. 
For God's sake, love not only those 
Who cling around our hearts and homes ; 

But all who wander sad and lone. 

Without a friend, without a home. 

But longing still and still unsatisfied ; 

And all who longing are, no matter how or where. 

They friendless, homeless are, 

Tliey need our love, though pride of w^ealth and glory boast. 

Take in tliem all, take everyone in loving thought. 

And with a free and generous hand and heart 

Fling love about — to all this starving multitude give love ; 

Let not one thought of hate or wrath 

Have place within thy heart. 

With all those longing, hungry ones 

Who know not j^et what love does mean. 

Know not the depth and breadth of love. 

Know not what peace and happiness it is to love — 

To love alway — to love instead of hate. 

To praise instead of blame — know not one little thrill 

So sweet and pure which Love bestows upon 

Her loyal ones. 



70 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Take care, all ye who understand the power you hold 

For good and happiness, 

And as you look upon the faces sad, and mark 

Tlie longing in their ej^es, take heart, 

And from the fulness of thy store 

Most freely give and nothing stint. 

Fear not, for as yon give to you is given ; 
As fast as you pour forth that Love, 
It comes to you — you've touched the spring 
Which never, never dries — fear not, but give. 

E'en though for pa\^ you curses get — yet give. 
Forget you have a self for any purpose 
But to freely give to all 
That love you see and know and feel. 

ISTo need for any books or any tools, 

Nor clothing rich or gav, but just to love. 

01), blessing sweet — that back upon ourselves is thrown, 

But sweeter far than when we sent it forth. 

Full rightlj^ art Thou named, oh, God ! 

For what but Love could such a wa\^ conceive 

To multiply Itself — such law la}^ down, 

And yet so simple is, though great. 

That all we see was made by Its sweet power, 

AVhich changes never — It always has, 
It is to-da}^, and all the ages coming on 
The same sweet power shall be, 
The same law rule ; then give and fear not, 
Give love with generous hand and heart, 
And giving, live. 



PASSIONATE PASSIOXS 71 



NOT SEE DEAR GOD ? 

Not see dear Gocl ? not liear His voice ? 

No wonder sadness reigns without 

That Thing whicli makes the lieart rejoice ! 

Tliat Tiling, that Love, that Power, what you will, 

Wljich sings a song so sweet. 

So wondrous grand, and yet so simple all the while, 

Within these lives of ours. 

Oh, Jesus, brooding in the air ! 

Oh, Jesus, moving everywhere ! 

Not see dear God ? 

When all that hides from eyes of men that Omnipresent 

Tiling 
Are thoughts that think It not ; 
Thoughts brooding over env}^, fear, and hate ; 
And brooding tlius, thus give a shape to unsliai)ed woe — 
Then wonder that our hearts are aching hearts ! 

Oh, Love, that we might know how close You are ! 

Oil, Rest, so sought for, present everywhere ! 

Oh, Happiness, where are our eyes, 

That we have failed to see You long ago ? 

An hundred eyes now speak for You ; 

An hundred voices pulsing, throbbing in my brain, 

Speak out for You, oh, God. 

God! Love? Wisdom? Jesus? Lord? Christ? 

Power ? Life ? 
No matter what the word, they mean the same ; one, ever 

one. 



My Love, what holds You back ? 

What have I done — what thoughts have held 



72 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

That wove a chain for You, to bind You down ? 

Whate'er it was, I cast it out. 

Come forth, dear Love, in fleshly guise. 

That I ma}^ feel You, Dear. 

Make all tliis flesh of mine proclaim Your nearness. Love. 

What say You, Dear ? I call you forth, 

Then listen not to what You say ? 

Ah, surely not ! 

Oh, Father ! teach me hour by hour 

How best to use this wondrous power. 

I yield it all to You; pray, bear me here or bear me 

there. 
That like the ocean's tides which draw 
From all the sides, but send again, 
A wee bit later on, full wave on wave, 
Which carries, as it rises, higher yet and higher, 
A sweeter, fuller, fresher sense of power. 
And brings from other shores 
What otlier shores have offered to the whole. 
And as the water beats upon the shore, 
It sings its story o'er and o'er. 

And so the unseen law forever manifests itself. 

Yet e^'es beliold it not ; 

It sings the sweetest song that e'er was dreamed. 

Yet ears do hear it not. 

Two hands, two arms, yet one side is ignored ; 

A right, a left, the one is .trained ; 

The other grows an untrained part — and why ? 

What valid reason can we give 

For such misuse of half of us ? 

Two natures — one a high, the other low — 

And why ? No wonder God cannot be seen. 

It makes my blood run faster, hotter in my veins, 

To hear God so maligned. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 73 

Oil, Love ! my Love, when will Your people see Your 

face? 
Why place their hands upon their eyes 
To shut them, that they may not see ? 
Oh, Love ! so little understood ; 
Oh, Love ! our daily food, 
That maketh all that is alive — alive 
With mighty Love that never, never dies. 
But works forever, moulding o'er, with tender touch, 
All things within Itself. 
And while It works It sings. 
And ofttimes, as It sings the lower notes 
(The sweetest, tenderest of them all), 
We hear them not, and why — ah, why ? 



This, then, must be the song : 

" I am, I am, and ever was, 

Shall be forever and for aye 

Creator, King, the Guider, and the Lord. 

I am that Something in the universe, 

From largest to the least, which man 

Refuses place, denies the power, the while 

He bows his head beneath the blows I rain on him. 

I am the Thing despised, forsaken, and alone, 

Which yet knows well Its power. 

Deny Me if j^ou will, I cannot die. 

Drive nails through hands and feet, 

Run daggers through My heart, 

I rise triumphant from it all. 

I am. I am. I am. 

Oh, children dear, why turn from Me ? 

What can I do to prove to you that I am Love ? 

All else you see does fade, decay, and die, 

I, only I, resist all things, e'en death. 



74 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

" Do 3^011 not mind, ni}^ little ones, once, 
When I took a shape and lived among j^ou, 
How they took Me 'fore your very eyes, 
\nd tortured Me, until they said *'tis done' ? 
In three days' time 1 came again, and stood before you 
In the flesh, and talked and ate with 3^ou. 
You see I did not die — 1 could not die. 
I did it all to prove that Love could not be killed, 
So, little ones, turn from Me not — 
Do call Me, Father, Mother, 
What you will, an Elder Brother, 
Friend, or Sweetheart leal — 
But call Me, give Me place beside thj^ board ; 
Let Me but eat and drink with you, 'tis all I ask. 
Turn from Me not, My little ones, so dear to Me, 
Be not afraid ! I know I seem so strong — 
'Tis only Love, my loved ones list to Me." 



Once all alone — such dread alone — I stood 

A tiny speck in this wide world, an atom in the L^niverse, 

No light, no hope, no joy, and scarce no life, 

So blind to all this beauty now I see, 

So deaf to all this music now I hear. 

Sweet tastes were bitter — feeling pain, 

And yet so true is Love, so kind 

And wise and sweet — that whilst I hated — scorned — 

Denied my Love, It yet was true to me. 

I would not use my senses in Its cause, 

So gently, sweetly, like a breath from Paradise 

Into my thoughts It came. It spoke — 

I listened. Oh, what bliss sweeps o'er my soul 

Whene'er I think of tliat blest hour — I listened. 

An angel's voice as discord was compared to that 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 75 

I listened to : "My child, my little one, 
Come to my arms, trust all to me." 

Ah, Love, dear Love, so faithful, all complete, 

I tried to trust, but failed so oft 

I felt ashamed, but ever at my side my Love abides 

My hand in His — It guides me day by day. 

I walk along, and feeling strong, I turn me from my Love. 

The hurrying crowd, the busy ones push hard 

And throw me down ; I look, my Love is there, 

So sweetly smiling with power so rare. 

I turn again, and in Love's hand mine own I slip 

And humbly cling. 

My Love so true when I unfaithful prove 

And seek elsewhere for joy. It cannot be, there is no one 

Who has Thy power to bless one's life. Ah, faithful One, 

Dear, loving One, I love Thee well, when known, how 

grand 
Thou art, when seen, how vast and jet so close. 

When heard, what glorious voice, yet tender too. 
When felt, how sweet Thy touch (for all our loved ones 
Tell of Thee in every look and word), God, Father, 
Mother, Lover, Friend, All, All, Thou art and more. 
No words can fitly speak of Thee, my loving One. 
Let every word of mine, aye, every thought reveal 
Th}^ perfectness in some way, great or small, 
More faithful prove by trusting Thee for ever}^ thing. 
And carrying in my face the joy Th}^ presence lends 
To life, and in ray voice Thy loving tones give forth. 
Ah, Love, my Love, my Life, I would be true to Thee. 



76 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 



A QUIET, PROSAIC CITY MAN 

I HELD my darling in my arras, 
Her head upon my breast, 
I smoothed her hair, caressed her face, 
And murmured, " Dear one, rest." 

Her loving arms were round my neck, 

She drew my face to hers. 

And kissed it o'er and o'er again, 

" What bliss to love — is this the curse ? " 

No words had I to answer that, 
But drew her nearer me, 
I breathed a prayer of thanks to God 
And said — " I bow to Thee, 

" 01), Power unseen, w^hich sweeps my soul. 

Aye, more — my very life 

Now vibrates to Thy touch — I yield, 

I'll end this bitter strife. 

"I yield — I yield — and willingly, 
My very thoughts are Tiiine 
To mould in shape which pleases Thee 
No more I'll deem them mine. 

"Unless they speak to prove Thy power 
In word, and look, and tone, 
Gloriously sweet, yet art Thou God 
And King, and Thou alone." 

A quiet, prosaic city man, 

I look to those around. 

But Heaven has been revealed to me 

As near, in me 'tis found. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 77 

In me, the busy city man 
That power lives alway, 
To make for me a heaven or hell. 
It rests with me to say. 

And now, my w^insome little love 

Is ever at my side, 

To keep my thoughts from growing sad, 

And wipe away self-pride. 

When I am worried over much 

Her soft hand touches mine, 

"Dear heart, with thoughts so full of gloom 

Your light can never shine." 

Again — I stand upon the streets. 

The tumult maddens me, 

" Dear one," she murmurs, " look within 

This restless, surging sea 

" Of human passions and unrest. 
And see Love hiding there. 
And hear the music of Love's voice ; 
Thus learn to do and dare." 

A quiet, prosaic business man 
So full of fancies odd ! 
My little love was sent to me, 
A gift from our dear God. 

What, though she never takes a shape 
Your eyes and mine can see, 
Her lips of flesh ne'er press to mine, 
Nor arms encircle me ? 



78 PASSIOXATE TASSIOXS 

She lives for me^ and with me dwells, 
Makes music in my soul, 
Parts wide the covering over care. 
And shows the parts as whole. 

So leave to me my little love. 
Or " fancj^," as you say, 
She walks with me, the city man, 
Each busy, care-filled day. 

My darling one ! hold me so close 
To 3'our pure, loyal heart. 
That all thoughts else are crowded out, 
For love of my sweetheart. 



LOVE'S SONG 

My love was dead — and at her side 

I sat me down and wept. 

" My love, my dear one ! all my life 

I now shall long for thee. 

Oh, love, so true, to leave me so, 

I cannot live, I too must die." 

And moaning so, I crept yet closer to my love ; 
Silent and cold, I took her to my heart. 
Once more held that form. 
Now cold and stiff, within my arms so strong. 
How still slie lay ! Ah, me ; how still ! 
And ne'er one slightest move did make. 

No answer made, although I held her 

With such tender, reverent love. 

She used not thus to do, my little love. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 19 

Her kisses fell like rain upon the face 
She loved so well — her little arms would 
Press me close — closer still, and fond. 

Hark ! this inert mass once more did move 
And speak, and though in language new, 
1 seemed to understand. Entranced I listened 
To the tones so sweet, and laughter, gay 
And joyous, as it rippled o'er and o'er, 
Like dancing waters in the sun. 

I must its words repeat, though how to make 

Its story plain I scarce can see — 

'Twas not alone the mouth which spoke. 

But every tiniest piece of flesh 

That form contained breathed forth 

Its song to me. 

"Love changeth never, no beginning had 
Nor ending ever." Wherever found 
Its one song sings of joy and peace, 
Content and sweetest happiness. 
And be it held in some sweet saint, 
Or in a tiny bird, it is the same ; 
It still is joy and peace. 
Content and sweetest happiness. 

And if it be in some great sun 

Which sheds its rays upon 

A million smaller worlds, with all 

Their freight of life, or in an atom 

Smallest of the small— so small 

That eye unaided cannot see 

Its measure, still 'tis all the same. 



80 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

One life is all there is, and life 

Is Love, so sweet and true. 

" Love changeth never, it still is joy 

And peace, content and sweetest happiness." 

Art thou so blind, poor suffering one, 

Thou canst not see this truth so plain ? 

That though Love took this form to walk 

Upon tlie earth in this especial guise. 

And speak its words through mouth and eyes, 

Yet every atom small which Love did use 

In moulding such a beauteous form. 

Was each one Life, was each one Love. 

" Love changeth never — it still is joy 

And peace, content and sweetest happiness." 

And when its task is o'er, and it must change 
The form it holds, and breaks again 
Into the former state (you call it dust) — 
That complex form — yet each wee part is still 
The Love — though small the form it holds, 
^' For Love doth never change, 'tis joy 
And peace, content and sweetest happiness." 

Then could I see, as well as hear, 
And in some odd, mysterious way, 
The ages passed me like a day. 
I saw how Love Its changes made. 
Each perfect, if we would but see it so. 
The things called dead so many years ago, 
As ages passed along were moulded into forms 
Surpassing fair, and filled the air with song. 

"Love changeth never, 'tis joy and peace. 
Content and sweetest happiness." 
I kissed my love, and gently pressed 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 81 

Her to my heart, for well I knew 

Love's song had entered deep into my very soul, 

Ne'er to part from out my consciousness 

For evermore. 

I see — I know — and praise 

The Love so sweet which fills nn^ life. 

Which is my Life I breathe — and that 

Is word of Love Eternal, Changeless, Pure : 

" Love changeth never, 'tis joy and peace, 

Content and sweetest happiness." 



I GO abroad, I freely give. 
Of what I am, to all who live, 
Most freely give, and nothing ask, 
So sweet, so dear the loving task. 

But when the strain has been intense, 
When some cold heart I meet, from whence 
All joy, all love, all hope has fled. 
Leaving it sad and nearly dead — 

I come to you, Ifly to you, 
For w^ell I know I'll find yours true. 
Shall find yours warm — aye, more — 
Most loving — tender to the core. 

Though forced to life of seeming sloth. 

You are creating for us both 

An atmosphere of love and power. 

Of which we breathe each passing hour. 

We breathe, and stronger, sweeter grow. 
For rich that food, full well we know 
What power there is in Love to fill 
One's life with joy intense, though still. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Can 3^011 not then most patient be, 
And make your lieart a rest for me ? 
'Twill not be long — your life will change, 
Your influence bound a wider range. 

But first, one lesson you must learn. 

In all the world see nought to spurn, 

But love — yet love and be content 

With dear Love's shapes, how^e'er they're sj^ent. 

Tiie law is true — is most exact, 
The heart uneasy, tempest-racked 
Must learn Love's lesson, learn to wait 
And serve — with heart for any fate. 

Before he deux present his claim 
For greater work, or greater name. 
And learning — love — and loving prove 
What joy it means in Love to move. 

And then, whene'er I think of you, 
A thought so loving, kind, and true. 
Will come to me — though miles away, 
'Twill thrill my soul, and who can say 

How far that influence shall extend. 
Or dare deny Love's power to blend 
All lives in one harmonious whole. 
When true Love swa^^s the human soul 

I come to you, I fly to 3^ou, 
For w^ell I know I'll find you true, 
Will find a love so strong, so pure, 
'Twill courage give to more endure. 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 83 



KNOW THYSELF 

God, dear God ! Ah, Love ! dear Love ! 

We oft have heard of Thee as Jesus Christ ; 

Pray speak again in tones as clear as those in Galilee, 

That those who love Thee so may hear Thee now, 

Through all the tumult and the noise of anger, liate, and 

fear. 
Which rings to-day throughout our world, our thoughts, 
And drives the dear Love out, or drowns Its voice. 
Forgive us. Dear, that we less faithful prove to Thee 
Than did the Lord. He never failed in love ; 
From first to last how true He was, how well 
He ruled His thoughts that Love the Father should be 

seen ! 

Dear God, move every thought that I may have this day, 
I yield the ground * to Thee, to use as thou mayst wish — 
What must be done before Thy seed can find a lodgment 

there — 
Ploughed ? 

Yes, yes, dear Love ! long, long ago, the plough 
Of care, of woe, of discontent, of loss of friends. 
Of friends untrue, and dire distress, has passed my way, 
And left the ground upturned ; 
What was on top — the first — is now the last. 
Not ready yet ? what more ? 
It must be smoothed and evened o'er? 
The stones removed ? 

Oh, Love! if I must wait until those stones are all removed. 
When loill the sowing be ? 
Is there no way to drive all out at once. 
That, like the mist before the sun, they all might go ? 

* In this by the " ground " is meant the mentality (or soul). 



84 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

What are those stones ? I know thera not, 
They were not there before that hideous plough passed 
througl]. 

AVliat Light is this ? What read I there upon those stones ? 

Wliat does this transformation mean ? 

How long it takes a stone to grow ! 

Far, far into the past You draw my thoughts, oh, wondrous 

Liglit ! 
To read the story of those stones aright. 
Long years ago, this stone of Fear began to grow, 
So long ago, I know not Avhen, but there it is — 
And stamped unerringly, year after year, 
With fear of this and fear of that, how large it is — 
I cannot move it from its place, you see ! 
It lies embedded there and will not stir. 
And this — its name is Doubt, and this — Unrest. 
Though not so large, it looks an endless chair. ; 
It lies so low, one does not see how Avide it spreads, 
How close it clings, and chokes the sprouting things. 
And this — how dark and cold the very air 
Which clings to this foul spot — 
This broad flat stone which seems to breathe — 
Its name ? Oh, Hate ! how little did I think 
When first I gave you place, that you would grow 
To such a shape — to such a size. 
You were not " Hate " when first we met. 
Or you had ne'er an entrance gained. 
What is the use, with all these large, 
And all these smaller ones which lie about, 
I never can make resting place for any seed. 
Ah, God ! It cannot be. 

And thinking thus the hot tears forced their way. 
And fell — fell on the stone called Hate ; 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 85 

Behold ! it fell to pieces, crumbling like the dust, 
And then the tears came faster yet — but tears of gratitude 
And joy, and in the place where once the stone had been 
Upsprang the sweetest flowers, around which hovered 

lovely shapes 
Which sang such glorious songs of hope and cheer 
Amazed, 
I gazed. 

Lo ! at ray side I saw a Face — a Form — 

Which had a strangely well-known air : 

A Face which glowed with something words could not 

have voiced, 
A Form which as it stood gave out a power, v>4jich well I 

felt; 
And feeling, answered to, in kind. 
I looked, each second as it passed seemed wrought with 

bliss — 
Unspeakable because so great, so sweet. 
And time had ceased — I knew nought else. 
So charmed was I with what I saw" and felt ; 
I seemed to grow — to grow until I mounted high, 
Into the very heaven of rest ; 
But always went that other One. 
At last I found my voice. 
" Thou art the Christ," I murmured low 
And bowed my head the while ; for I still felt 
The power which passed between us as we stood 
Thus side by side, and thankful reverence gave. 
"And who is Christ?" 
" The Son of God." 

My hands were taken in a grasp so warm, so strong. 
And gently was I drawn close to One I had so longed to 
see — 



86 PASSIONATE PASSIONS 

Had longed at times until my eyes ran tears of fire 
Wliicli burned me as they fell, 
And all my world was nought to me 
Because I longed for sight of Him. 
I looked my fill — what beauty there to see, 
And closer, closer yet we came, 
" My Lord, my God ! " I almost sobbed — 
So keenly did I feel what else no words could meaning 
give. 

" Nay, nay, my dear, I am thyself ! " 

I stood alone ; j^et not alone, for all there was vras mine. 

I looked around, beneath, searched for the stones 

Which were not there — for Love had turned them into 

flowers : 
M}^ ground was harrowed, sown, and grown. 
'• I am thyself," filled all the air about — 
I heard it here, I heard it there. 
Until my voice took up the song ; 
" Then am I Love, and one with God, and can create, 
Can make anew all things which come to me ! " 

And now I know that I am Love, 

With eyes wide open now I see — and see all things 

aright — 
With ears attuned to Love I hear the music of the 

spheres. 
The smaller notes of which lie at my feet — 
Are in the hearts of friends ; 
And always were, but I could hear them not. 
With Love's keen touch I penetrate beneath all outside 

crust 
And grasp my sister Love, I know is there. 
And that is what it means to " know thyself." 



PASSIONATE PASSIONS 87 

To know that we are Love and one with God, 

And knowing that, we stand possessed of all that we could 

wish. 
Why longer seek — and seek for what ? 
We only wanted Love — 
To ns that meant all happiness, content, and peace. 

For evermore we are at rest, 
And seek no more, we've found the best : 
In finding Self, we've found the Christ, 
In thought, the place of blessed tryst. 

And this the song that Spirit sings, 
And every note new impulse brings : 
" I am the Life, the Love of all ; 
Oh, who will answer to the call ? 

"Oh, who will come and walk with me 
Through heat and cold, o'er land and sea ? 
I am the power forming all ; 
Oh, who will answer to the call ? 

" Yet am I Love, and would not harm 
Or cause to beat with fear's alarm 
Tiie frailest thing which lives to- day ; 
Tenderest Love I am alway." 



THE END 



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